


Dolo

by Pandansca



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Blood, Blood Loss, Blood Magic, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Deception, Demon Summoning, Demons, FOR RITUALISTIC USE ONLY I promise, French Kissing, Gentle Kissing, I honestly don't know what else to tag, It's the FFXV version, Kissing, M/M, Matter of Life and Death, Mind Games, Pentagrams, Poison, Poisoning, Rituals, Self-Harm, This fic is basically a rework of a movie that I love very much, mentioned sex but not detailed sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 05:26:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18243275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pandansca/pseuds/Pandansca
Summary: Noctis has been taken by a terrifying, powerful daemon.Armed with the one thing his lover left behind, Prompto will travel through Hell itself and go against the inhabitants in it in order to bring him back.But Prompto could never have guessed the trials he'd endure and the truths that were better left unsaid...Will he really be able to do this...?





	Dolo

**Author's Note:**

> Let me first start out this work of fiction by stating that this plot is NOT one of my own creation.  
> This work is a re-worked and heavily edited, chopped, and FFXV version of a movie I hold very near and dear to my heart, titled 'Lo'.  
> Once on Netflix a long, long, LONG time ago when I was growing up, I can now only find it to watch on YouTube in unfortunate and LOW quality... Still, even though the plot of that movie will be spoiled by the scenes in this fic, I highly suggest giving it a watch at some point after you read!  
> I have toned this down to be more emotional and kind of dark to fit the tone I was going for, but the real movie is more of a comedy. I HIGHLY recommend it!!  
> But without further ado, enjoy!

Prompto took a deep breath, staring into the flame of his lighter as if it held all of the answers to all of the secrets in the world. The flame flickered and shone, the dim light of it only illuminating his freckled hand and face. The rest of him and his small apartment’s living space was dark, shrouded in a deep, encompassing black. No light invaded from outside; not from a crack, crevice, or window. For what he had in mind, the instructions had been clear. Well- as clear as he had been able to translate them, anyways.

He would enter in darkness and emerge in darkness. He would go alone.

Without further hesitation, Prompto guided the lighter towards the first candle. Six in total, evenly spaced around him. Though varying in shapes and sizes, it would have to do. It was all he had happened to have, saved up in various drawers and cabinets; presents of Christmas’ and birthday’s past. They rested along the outline of a decently large, white circle and as he lit each one, more of the space around him became revealed.

The small circle- just large enough for him to sit comfortably in the center of so as to not smudge or disturb the intricate details freshly scrawled around it, made with paint that he had ‘borrowed’ from his college’s art supply room- was drawn in white, starkly contrasting with the dark coloring of the hardwood floor. The lines, though hastily scrawled, were rather straight and precise. And at the top point of the star, a horned eye was drawn. Prompto inwardly grimaced, hoping that somehow he would be able to erase the five-pointed star and the horned serpent drawings around it. He had hoped to get his security deposit back in the future.

His apartment had always been too small, even for _one_ person. He had hoped that once he was able to graduate college and make decent money, he’d be able to afford some place _bigger_. Some place _nicer_. Some place where Noctis wouldn’t have to trip over his photography equipment in order to traverse it. Where the walls weren’t drafty and the ceiling didn’t leak on rainy nights. Where there was room to allow Noctis his own space. He’d be free to experiment with any hobby he found interest in and enjoy anything that sparked his fancy.

But Noctis wasn’t here. Not anymore.

He was alone.

Prompto hesitated, suddenly feeling a fear that had yet to appear until this very moment. Above that, an acute layer of skepticism. His entire life, he’d believed in nothing. Not a Heaven, not a Hell… As far as he was concerned, there was nothing beyond that point where you close your eyes and exhale your last breath. He was out of his element. Out of his comfort zone.

How could you _prepare_ for something you didn’t think existed? How could you _imagine_ what you thought wasn’t real? But that stupidly intriguing book, those near-impossible to translate words, the very _creature_ that snatched his lover from his arms…

It was his only lead. His only clue. His only _hope_ at finding Noctis again. It was special. Sacred. The last item he had of his lover and Noctis’ prized possession. Prompto had thought it lost forever; spirited away with his love. After days and nights of grieving, of barely getting out of bed for much more than to wallow upright in his own self-pity and despair, he had found it, neatly tucked away between other books of interest atop a shelf.

Noctis must have put it there. He _must_ have.

Still, the reality of the situation weighed heavy. Here he was- alone, sitting inside of a painting- about to summon a _daemon_. Anyone else would think him daft. Delusional. Touched in the head.  But Prompto _knew_ what he had witnessed that night. Felt the remnants like a burning beneath his skin.

And he was _terrified_.

What _waited_ for him, beyond this point? What _fate_ would he adopt, throwing himself there? It was up in the air. Anyone’s guess.

That, along with the thought- the _finality_ \- of death, terrified him.

Prompto looked to the book, sitting on the floor in front of him within the circle. At the creepy eye that sat in the cover’s center and the unnatural, almost skin-like material it was made up of. As if the book had been made from someone’s mutilated corpse and then bound to the pages as an aesthetic prize for some fucked up serial killer.

But it hadn’t belonged to a serial killer. It was Noctis’.

Once intriguing, it now gave the blonde nothing but chills down his spine. This accursed tome, its pages filled to the brim with spells, chants, rituals, and incantations. With its crinkled and often blood-stained pages. It was the only thing of Noctis’ that he had left.

The only hope he had of ever seeing Noctis again. He’d travel to Hell and back for Noctis.

And that’s exactly what he was about to do.

Prompto grasped the book carefully, ignoring how its eye seemed to stare at him and haunt him, making goosebumps appear along his flesh. Pulling the pages apart, he met the exact page that he needed, marked by a vibrant, red ribbon. On the right page, the image of a foul, terrifying daemon was drawn. One with multiple rows of sharp, jagged teeth and deep, blood-red eyes. Of rotting flesh and exposed bone. Of long, thin arms, curled, black horns, and sharp, deadly claws. On the left page, the instructions on how to summon it, including a detailed picture of the exact summoning circle that he was now sitting in. And resting between the pages along with the ribbon marker, there sat a procured photo of his beloved.

His reason. His everything.

Prompto remembered the very moment he had taken the photo. It was from their sixth date, where he had brought Noctis to the travelling carnival that only came around once a year in the fall. When the leaves were all fallen and winter was just a breath away. When the nights were quieter than most and a thick mist covered the ground in the early mornings.

With a soft, regretful smile, Prompto kissed the photo of Noctis before setting the picture to the side, beneath the book for safekeeping.

It was time to focus on the task at hand.

Prompto studied the picture of the daemon scrawled onto the page. Wondered if this would even work and hoped that it would. Then he turned the page, where the ritual instructions started.

He wasn’t surprised to see the picture of the blood sacrifice. That was how it always went in the movies, right? They always needed a _virgin_ sacrifice. Some ditsy, big-breasted blonde who hadn’t yet grown into her own self-esteem. Who had all the friends in the world and could easily talk to anyone but never found herself able to woo anyone into her bed.

Well… he _certainly_ wasn’t that…

But, hopefully, his chastity wouldn’t matter.

Still, he couldn’t help but swallow audibly as he picked up the jagged kitchen knife he had pulled out of a drawer in his kitchen. He drew a slow, shaky breath as he laid the sharp side of the knife against his open palm. The cold of the metal wasn’t comforting against he heat of his candles. The bite of the blade, just barely pressing into his skin, only caused his body to tremble more, his heart pounding with his nerves. Never in his _life_ had he thought he would be doing this…

He closed his eyes.

_‘Just do it, Prompto. Don’t think about the pain. Just- do it! For Noctis.’_

Pain sparked to life instantly as Prompto slit a line across his left palm. It stung, then throbbed in time with his rapidly increasing heartbeat, creating waves of pain that travelled throughout his entire body. With a gasp, his right hand let go of the knife and it clattered to the floor, loudly in the almost eerie silence of the normally busy downtown apartment. The blonde watched with wide eyes as his blood pulsed from his self-inflicted wound, quickly filling his open palm with thick, deep red blood. Surprised by how much there was, Prompto was frozen in a combination of shock, fear, and pain for just the briefest of moments. He hadn’t meant to cut _that_ deep, and the results were becoming increasingly overwhelming. The blood looked black as night in the darkness of the room and when it overflowed from his hand, it fell down his wrist in small streams. He only barely remembered last-second to make sure the droplets plopped onto the inside of the horned eye that he had drawn. But they did. Prompto hissed in another pained breath and looked around for a cloth or a rag or _something_ to cover his wound with, but there was nothing. He hadn’t thought about that in his haste to get everything done.

How many drops did the ritual even _need_? One? Five? An entire _cup_? Perhaps he could have went about this much smarter. Maybe all that was needed was a single pinprick. Then, he wouldn’t be so queasy and lightheaded and terrified, wondering if the downpour of his own life essence would ever stop.

_‘No, Prompto. Don’t feint. Its’ just blood. Your blood. You’ve got plenty more. You’ve got this.’_

He continued to let the blood drip from his wound for just a little while longer before unceremoniously and frantically ripping the sleeve off of his faded t-shirt and wrapping it around his hand as a makeshift bandage. He added pressure to the wound, hissing out his pain once more, and when he was sure it was tied on tightly enough to stop the blood flow, he allowed himself a few minutes to gather his nerves back up and slow his beating heart. Slowly, with his uninjured hand, he lifted the strange book.

Now was the time. The incantation.

He read over the incantation in his mind a few times before uttering it aloud. He didn’t know _what_ language this was. He’d had one hell of a time trying to get it translated by a few of his college professors, but sadly they had merely laughed in his face and chastised him for coming to them with an unreadable scrawl. A joke. A prank. They hadn’t seen the words as any defined _language_. He just hoped he would be pronouncing it right…

 **“O creatura dolis meum et vocavi te in meo sanguine…** **Invoco te praevaluerunt. Facite praecepta det daemonem mendacii. Ego præcipio tibi...”** Prompto swallowed heavily, eyes bouncing all around him, paranoid of seeing something he had never wanted to. He only had one final word to call, and already the room was beginning to feel colder. Darker. Lonelier. **“** **Veni!”** He sat incredibly still, breath caught in his throat as he awaited…

And waited…

And waited…

Wait.

Nothing was happening. Why wasn’t anything happening? Prompto traced a finger over the pages as he re-observed every picture, every line of script. Did he draw the circle wrong? Did he flub the words? Not that there was anyone that could _translate_ this stupid thing… He’d _tried_! Wait- was it _really_ because he wasn’t a virgin?! Oh. Wait. After the flipping of a page, Prompto sighed a breath of relief. There was another step on the next page that he hadn’t noticed until now.

Oops.

But even as some of the worry for one thing faded away, the worry of another swiftly replaced it. In this illustration, the book depicted a knife, stabbing into the eye where copious amounts of his blood now lay. “Aww man… Now I won’t be getting the deposit back on this apartment, I guess…” There would be no ridding this. He’d have to plunge it deep enough to pierce the wood.

Using the same knife he used to slit his palm, he stabbed the inside of the eye inside of his circle with all that he had, accompanied by a cry of strength. And as soon as the knife struck the hard wood of the floor, inhuman _screams_ erupted; sorrowful and pained wails. No-doubt the souls of the tortured inhabitants of Hell itself, drowning out everything, even the sound of his own thoughts inside his mind.

Around him the flames danced blue instead of their once-yellow hue, changing the atmosphere of the space around him entirely. He was altogether freezing, yet he was sweating in his fear. But then a gust blew by and the candles suddenly went out, leaving him in utter darkness and a deafening silence.

Quickly, he grabbed his lighter from his pants pocket, scrambling to do it all with his one good, not-as-dexterous hand. He felt panicked and frenzied, alone in the pitch-black darkness. Anything could be out there, waiting to gobble him up. _Anything_. Trembling hard, he rushed to relight his candles and get himself out of the darkness. To have _some_ sense of control over the environment he was in now. There was no way he could just jump up and switch the light on. After what just happened there was no doubt in his mind that he was no longer in his apartment… Or maybe he still _was_? He didn’t know how this worked. But _wherever_ he was, he just _knew_ not to leave.

Bad things always happened when people left the circle in movies, much like how the slutty school cheerleader was guaranteed the first death. He was in _their_ realm now.

And he wasn’t about to leave until the ritual was complete and he had Noctis back.

Suddenly, out of the nothing, there was another terrifying, _warped_ noise. Like the sound of a dog slowly dying, only slowed down and mixed with the hissing of a snake and a low, rumbling growl of something inhuman. Coming from somewhere in the darkness, directly in front of him.

Prompto froze.

Out of the darkness, the beast emerged. The same one that had been drawn in Noctis’ book.

First a hand, flesh half gone and bony, clawed fingers scratching deep lines in the ground. Then two. Then the arms, the skin dark a dark, blueish black, as if it had been a corpse not too long ago, rotting beneath a deep lake. And finally… a face. Horns, black and curled, protruded from its partially-exposed skull. Beneath that, sharp, deep-red eyes that watched the blonde as if he were a feast. No nose to see, It’s mouth hanging wide to expose rows upon rows of sharp, blood-stained teeth. It salivated, leaving pools of saliva to trail in its wake beneath the lower half of its body that drug along the floor behind it. The legs, mangled, trailed lifelessly. Prompto’s eyes widened impossibly and his heart stuttered in his chest. He huddled into himself, bringing his knees up to his chest protectively as he watched the daemon crawl its way towards him. Inch by slow, terrifying inch. And the closer it came to his lights, the more terrifying it became. Between the torn flesh that exposed yellowed bone, there were bugs and maggots, living within. The creature smelt of death and the strong tang of coppery blood. When at last it could come no further than the outer circle of Prompto’s barrier, it stopped, staring into Prompto’s terrified eyes with nothing more than inhuman growls instead of words.

_‘It’s okay, Prompto. You’re okay. He can’t hurt you if you stay inside the circle. The ritual worked. This daemon is yours, now. Bound by blood to complete your request before returning to hell. You got this. You can do this.’_

The daemon glowered up at Prompto with evil eyes full of equal parts hunger and utter _hatred_. He could tell just by that gaze alone that the daemon wanted to rip him apart and absolutely _would_ if it could. It wasn’t meant to be a human’s puppet. It wanted nothing more than to rip Prompto limb from limb or torture him for all eternity. From its mouth, remnants of blood was smeared all the way down its chin and throat. As if it had freshly fed on a human’s innards not so long ago.

Slowly, the daemon leaned in close and got a good look at Prompto. It almost seemed… _amused_ , now? As if it could hardly believe that someone as puny and weak as Prompto could actually summon it. It _screamed_ at him. That same daemonic, _inhuman_ wail as he heard after stabbing the eye to summon him, made up on innumerable voices. Prompto tried to act brave, but there was no stopping the way his body trembled and leaned away from those inquisitive eyes and rows of teeth, afraid for his very life despite the protection of his circle.

Daemons were _real_.

Holy _shit_. This was all _real_. And he was in the center of it. Trapped.

The daemon didn’t back away after it calmed. Prompto forced his eyes to crack back open and look at it, in all its terrifying glory. He swallowed, gripping his knees tightly. And in shallow, broken breaths, he dared to ask, “A-a-are y-you… the daemon, Dolo?”

Instead of more screams or the wailing of dying animals, Prompto was surprised and also terrified to hear the creature speak words. Though not through any discernable voice. It spoke in many, male and female, the mixture filling the space like an angry chorus. **“…I _am_ that.”**

Well. That didn’t exactly make him feel _better_ … He wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to be in the presence of this thing. Perhaps he should have sought after another, less scary-looking being with insurmountable power? But no. _This_ daemon’s page had been marked in Noctis’ book. Only this daemon could be trusted in bringing Noctis back. At least… he hoped that was what the page marking had meant. He really hoped that Noctis hadn’t just happened to stop reading along that page.

“A-and you h-h-have… great p-power?” His teeth chattered as he asked.

Dolo looked to Prompto with an amused, _predatory_ grin and replied, “ **This, I _know_ … Now… Tell me what it is that you want...”**

Prompto struggled to find his voice. “A… A boy.”

The daemon’s face turned to one of anger and disbelief in an instant. **“You summoned me for love?!”**

Prompto swallowed, flinching at the loud tone. “…Y-yes.”

Dolo stood on its hands, pressing as closely to the circle as it could without crossing the barrier, and demanded, **“You would throw away my great power over such… _human_ trivialities?!”** It spat the word ‘human’ like it was the most hated thing on the planet. As if it angered him just to think about. And the saliva and blood that flew from its mouth landed along Prompto’s face, making him whine in a high-pitched fear. But despite that, Prompto didn’t move away this time. This daemon may be terrifying, but it was summoned by _him_. It was here for _him_. Not the other way around.

Prompto force his body to try and relax as he replied, somewhat evenly, “…You have to do what I say.”

The daemon growled. **“…Look at you, pretending to be _brave_ …” **It snapped its teeth shut, as if demonstrating purposefully what force that jaw held. How it could snap the blonde’s neck in two at its earliest convenience. **“…What is your name?”**

Prompto hesitated. Would knowing his name give him some sort of unspoken power over him…? He hoped not. “…Prompto.”

The daemon sneered, backing away from being so close to the circle and resting it’s arms along the floor. **“…That’s a terrible name… Doesn’t fit your future… Allow me to baptize you…”** It gasped with an idea and its bloody eyes snapped up to meet Prompto’s, sending a wave of panic down the blonde’s spine. **“… _Dinner_.”**

Prompto swallowed. He couldn’t let the daemon feel like it had so much control over him and his future, nor his personal self. _He_ was the master. “…It’s Prompto.”, the blonde replied, as dryly and definite as he could, given the situation.

 **“Dinner, you have to let go of the past...”** Welp. So much for that…

Prompto stared angrily at the daemon, already tired of its antics. He’d try again. “I summoned you. You have to obey my charge.”

The daemon, surprisingly, _sighed_. Tiredly. Angrily. A simple act, but it did the job in making it seem like it could almost act _normal_ , despite its terrifyingly mangled appearance. It altogether terrified and confused Prompto. **“That might be _loosely_ true, but I’m under no obligation to _respect_ you… And given the opportunity, I _will_ eat you.”**

Again, Prompto swallowed and furrowed his sharp brows. Big talk, coming from the one with the handicap. Right now that daemon couldn’t touch him, even if it tried with all its strength. Prompto was protected. And feeling as such, he exclaimed, “…I’m not afraid.”

Hearing this, the daemon once again lifted itself up by its arms to be more on the human’s eye level.  Dolo roared in Prompto’s face. And again, Prompto couldn’t help but to flinch and screw his eyes shut, his body trembling despite his wishes and brave face. Dolo then lowered itself once more, grinning wide with satisfaction. **“…Yes… You _are_.” **For a long moment, Dolo stared at Prompto, letting that harsh, unwanted truth sink into the blonde’s skin and watch him squirm under that cold, unyielding, red gaze. Then, it turned its horned head to look around at their darkened surroundings. **“…Where the _fuck_ am I?”**

Again, not the way Prompto would have thought a daemon to talk. He had assumed that they all spoke in tongues. And, truthfully, he didn’t know if he preferred this or the other. It was… jarring. Unsettling, almost. “My apartment.”

Dolo didn’t provide him with an answer nor opinion of the space. It merely growled low in its throat before those evil eyes dropped to take note of the book within the blonde’s circle. **“…Well, well, well… Where did a stringy porkchop like _you_ get such an old thing?”**

Prompto flitted his eyes between the book and the daemon nervously. “It’s not mine. It belonged to… _him_.” From atop the book’s open pages, Prompto grasped his photo of his beloved with his good hand. He held up the picture of Noctis towards the daemon, allowing it to get a good look.

It was Prompto’s favorite photo. In it, Noctis’ hair was tousled by the wind as they spun inside of comically large teacups. His deep blue eyes shone with happiness and love, looking directly into the camera whereas Prompto, half-out of the shot, was looking only at his boyfriend, delivering a kiss to his flushed cheek. Noctis was holding him tightly around his waist with one hand so as not to fall off the spinning ride while Prompto took the selfie-shot. In his other hand, a big cone of cotton candy was being clutched, already half-eaten.

Dolo almost sneered, and it backed away as it sarcastically replied, **“Pretty… Not his best angle, though…”**

Prompto blinked before lowering the picture, brows furrowing. “…Do you know him?”

The daemon puffed out a breath, waving away the accusation with a clawed hand. **“ _No_.”**

Still, Prompto caught the hint of a sly smile, and it sent a beat of hope soaring through his chest. “You’re lying!”, he accused. If this daemon knew what angles were and weren’t good on Noctis, then it _had_ to have seen him before now. Maybe Noctis wasn’t too far from where they were now. Maybe he could get him back within the next few minutes and this horrible nightmare could end.

The daemon glared. **“…I’m warning you, Dinner, trying to read a daemon is a thorny affair…”**

No. This daemon knew where Noctis was. It had to. If the daemons didn’t know where Noctis was, then how had they found him? How had they taken him from Prompto’s loving embrace? No. They had _all_ been after him. They had _all_ searched for him. And only one of them found him.

“You took him.”

Dolo clicked its tongue in an angered disbelief. **“… _I_ took him…?”**

Prompto stuttered, eyes going a little wide. He had not seen Dolo until recently. He knew that this creature hadn’t been the one to take Noctis. Only he had worded his accusation wrong. “Well- not _you_ , _specifically_ , but- your… _people_.” Prompto shook his head, hands coming up to wave frantically, shooing away the previously wrong accusation. “He was taken by some… _thing_. A daemon!” Without warning, Prompto raised his shirt up, exposing his chest. Along the skin there, there were scars. Remnants of long, jagged claw marks. Deep, red, and irritated. Recent.

Dolo stared at it, unsurprised and almost as if it was bored, to the blonde’s frustration. And then, **“…Are you sure it wasn’t a bear? I hear they’re getting braver these days…”**

Angry, Prompto covered himself back up and glared at the daemon. He was tired of these snarky, sarcastic remarks. Tired of the time that was being wasted while his boyfriend suffered alone, in Hell. “I’m not an idiot. Yeah, I might just be a bug to you, but I’m not a _fool_ , okay? He was taken by something- something like _you_! I thought I was _dying_! It _took_ Noctis!”

 ** _“It took Noctis!”_** , the daemon mocked, and Prompto snapped his mouth shut in an angry, disbelieving silence. **“…Look. Let me give you a nugget of advice… Page 303. It’s a _closing_ spell… Send me away before I get _really_ hungry…”**

The blonde merely slid the picture of Noctis back underneath the book without breaking eye contact with the daemon and slammed it shut, ignoring the pain that bloomed in his injured hand at the simple task. His anger towards Dolo and his pure need to have Noctis back had him leaning in a little closer, narrowing his bright blue eyes. Challengingly, he declared, “…I’m _not_ leaving here without him.”

The daemon sighed, dismally. **“…Look, Dinner... If what you’re telling me is true, and I’m _sure_ it is… The simple fact is, you’re _fucked_ … You don’t get out of hell...”**

Prompto frowned. For the first time since debating on whether or not to try this summoning thing in the first place, he felt as though maybe he _wouldn’t_ get Noctis back after all…

“I want to see him.”

**“Well I don’t know him.”**

Frustrated, Prompto huffed. Had they not just been over this? “His _name_ is Noct-“

Dolo cut him off. **“Yes, yes, yes, he’s _the rain that brings the flowers!_ …Look. I’m sure the two of you had a deep, emotional connection. But the simple fact is, Hell is a big place… There’s an _endless_ amount of souls that have been around since- oh, I don’t know- _the dawn of man?!_ …We don’t keep records.”**

Again, that feeling of hopelessness. And again, he smothered it down.

No. He couldn’t accept that. Dolo hadn’t even _tried_ yet.

Prompto stared into the daemon’s eyes, defiantly, crossing his arms over his chest. “…Then I’ll wait while you look for him.”

 **“No, no, no… I’m busy.”** Angrily, the daemon began to turn and crawl away, but Prompto spoke up, halting him.

“I am your master!” But despite Prompto’s words, Dolo didn’t stop. So he tried again. Louder, this time. More authoritative. “ _Daemon_ , I am your _master_!”

Finally the daemon turned back, halting in its steady crawl to yell back, **“What you’re asking for is _impossible_!”**

Prompto swallowed, staring into those blood-red eyes with a crushing sadness and determination. It couldn’t be impossible… It couldn’t be. “But I’m still asking it.”

Dolo roared, this time louder and angrier than ever before. It made the blonde’s head ache and his skin itch. Its breath smelled like death and as it turned to face Prompto once more, blood and saliva flew and splatters along his body. When the roaring calmed, it rasped, **“…Frightened children shouldn’t play with pentagrams… If you so much a slip a _pinky_ out of that circle I will have you in my belly for _ninety_ years… That’s how long it takes my assets to break down a little _bitch_ like _you_ …”**

Again, Prompto raised the photo of Noctis back up. Whether Dolo wanted to or not, it would get a good look at him. Commit him to memory. _Search_ for him. Determined and defiant, Prompto didn’t even move to wipe the mess of disgusting saliva off his body. He just stared into Dolo’s eyes with an unbreakable will of steel.

And after a long minute, the daemon finally sighed in resignation. **“…Noctis?”** , it asked.

Prompto nodded. “Noctis Lucis Caelum.”

 **“Stupid name for a human….”** , it spat. **“…Tell me about him.”**

Prompto furrowed his brows. “Just _find_ him for me!”

**“That’s what I’m _trying_ to do! But the more I _know_ about your ‘Juliet’, the better chance I have of _finding_ him out of the _billions_ of dark matter, floating around in torment!”**

“…Oh.” He hadn’t thought of that before.

 **“Yes, ‘ _Oh’_ …”**, Dolo mocked, boredly.

Prompto hesitated. He felt kind of stupid for not realizing that that would be an issue earlier. Of course there was more than just a handful of people in Hell. And of course there were bound to be people who looked similar. He took in a deep, calming breath. “…W-what do you want to know?”

**“I want details. _Emotional_ ones… I want to _feel_ your pain for him…”**

“W-well… He’s…” The blonde thought for a moment, trying to remember every detail of his beloved as he could. “He’s five feet and nine inches tall, black hair-“

 **“Stop.”** , Dolo interrupted. **“…God _damn_ , Dinner… you _are_ stupid… I asked you for emotional details… How you _met_ , how you _fought_ , how you _fucked_ , how you _kissed_ , how you _ate_ , _dated_ , _hit_ , _insulted_!”** The creature growled, angrily, tired of having its time wasted by such trivial details. **“…Don’t give me his _stats_. I’m not casting a movie.”**

Prompto blinked, his face growing hot. “S…So… you want… _details_ , details?”

**“Yes.”**

“Like… how we first met?” That one was _much_ safer than how they fucked.

**_“Yes!”_ **

He thought for a moment, bringing back the details of that fated day to the forefront of his memory. “U-Um… Well… I was on my lunch break at a restaurant I go to and-“

Out of nowhere, a bright light emanated from behind Prompto. And in shock, he turned to see an elaborate stage now sitting a little way away, further into the distance.

How did that stage come to be? His apartment wasn’t _nearly_ the size to be capable of holding a stage so large! But, even more surprising than the stage itself, is what it _contained_.

On the stage sat an exact replica of _himself_ , sitting in a play version of the exact restaurant that he was thinking of. The exact restaurant where he had met Noctis. The character Prompto was sitting just as he had on that day, resting at a small, iron table with small, iron chairs upon the veranda. The backdrop behind him was painted an astonishing blue, with the railings and town in the distance painted in almost expertly. Other actors and actresses sat around him, but the spotlight that shone over his own blonde form helped to make them viewed as the background characters that they were, each one eating quietly around him. There were even acted waiters and waitresses that crossed the scene every now and again, carrying trays of various items. It was _stunning_.

Prompto’s eyes widened and his mouth hung open as he watched the scene emerge and play before him like a movie from his very memories. And from seemingly nowhere and everywhere at once, loud applause erupted.

Prompto turned to the daemon in awe and disbelief. “ _What the-?!_ “

Dolo merely grinned almost happily, as if this was _fun_ for him. And, Prompto supposed, it was. It obviously wasn’t every day that a daemon got to watch a play. Dolo raised a clawed finger to its lips, motioning for silence. **“…It’s flashback time.”**

Prompto turned back to look towards the stage. “T-that’s… That’s _me_?!”

**“No. That’s me taking the thoughts from your brain and _projecting_ them over there… Now hush. I want to see what happens…”**

The play began, and the two of them sat and watched.

 

**…**

_Prompto sat, boredly, looking through his camera roll. Absently, he picked at his spaghetti with his fork. Here he was, only a day away from his photography final, and he had nothing to show for it. The model had been stiff and boring, unwilling to do anything daring or artsy. Merely a pretty girl who did nothing but sat atop a rock and let the waves of the ocean behind her be the most interesting thing about the project. But, damned it, he wasn’t wanting pictures of just the ocean. He had wanted to capture the_ emotions _of the ocean. The turbulent, tugging waters that flowed beneath a choppy surface._

_He clicked his tongue with a huff, bringing a small forkful of his meal to his lips._

_Great. He’d have to somehow find a far better, more_ willing _subject before nightfall and redo the photoshoot entirely. The end of the semester was right around the corner and if he didn’t pass then there would be no way to recover so easily._

_Out of his peripheral, a man approached, silently. Prompto wouldn’t have noticed him had it not been for the soft, interruptive clearing of a throat. Instantly Prompto pulled himself from his thoughts to look up at who was trying to hold his attention._

_A man who couldn’t have been much older than Prompto himself stood before the blonde. His hair was dark and a little untamed, deep, blue eyes partially hiding behind heavy, black bangs. His skin was pale, covered in a mix-match of black on black, from his tightly-worn t-shirt to his worn-in shoes. In his hands, he held a rather small, black briefcase._

_Prompto’s eyes widened and he forgot how to swallow his food as he looked the man over. Though a little odd in demeaner, he was_ gorgeous _, effortlessly stealing the blonde’s attention. Those long lashes, those deep blue, beautiful eyes, that thin form. He was like a gift from the Gods and Prompto couldn’t fathom a single idea or_ clue _as to why on_ Eos _this man was trying for his attention. The blonde looked out of place and stuffy by comparison, wearing the white, long-sleeved dress shirt, black tie, and black dress pants and shoes that his job required._

_Hesitantly, the black-haired man took a few steps forward, approaching Prompto. “…Hey.”, he greeted, and his voice was like black silk._

_A little startled out of his zone, Prompto sputtered out a,“…H-hi!”_

_The man looked from Prompto’s face to the plate of half-eaten spaghetti on his table. “…Is that… good?”_

_Confused at first, the blonde followed his eyes. “Oh! Y-yeah, it’s okay. It’s good!”_

_The stranger before him bit his lip, eyes bouncing between Prompto and his meal. “…C-Can I… try it?”_

_Prompto’s brows raised as he stared up at the man for a long moment, unable to answer. Did he hear him correctly? Did he want to try some of his lunch?_ His _lunch? Like…_ sharing _? Unbiddenly, the familiar image of that scene from ‘Lady and the Tramp’ entered his mind, and Prompto blushed, suddenly imagining the stranger and him sharing the same noodle._

_But the silence progressed, the blonde unable to find a suitable answer between the spiraling, sinful thoughts in his head fast enough._

_The handsome stranger frowned, looking dejected. “…Your silence says no…” Sadly, he turned around as if to walk away._

_And Prompto can’t put his finger on it. He didn’t know_ why _, but he didn’t want this meeting to end so quickly. Maybe it’s because he was sex starved. Maybe it was because he’d had no decent interactions with another human being outside of his online gaming sessions or boring office job or lackluster recent photography session with that god-awful ‘model’... But he wanted to know more about this man. He wanted him to_ stay _._

_“N-no! You can!!” Prompto answered properly, if not a little too rushed and loud. A few patrons at their own tables turned their eyes towards him in confusion and annoyance, but he didn’t care. The stranger looked back over his shoulder to meet the blonde’s eyes, and his own lit up happily and a small, hesitant smile graced his pale features. Inwardly, Prompto’s heart fluttered and his legs felt like jelly. He pushed further, making sure the other man knew that it was entirely okay to partake. Quirking his head towards his plate, he asked, “Do you... want a bite?”_

_Immediately, the man sat his suitcase down with enough force to shake the table and sat down opposite of Prompto. “Yeah, I would!” Prompto stared, wide eyes blinking, as the black-haired man grasped the fork from his own hand and began digging in. The stranger’s eyes lit up, his brows raising high as that first bite hit his taste buds. He hummed his absolute, unabashed pleasure, and the sound didn’t help the pink spreading down Prompto’s neck and chest._

_“_ Shit _, this is good!” He continued to go to town on the spaghetti, eating it as if he hadn’t eaten in days. “Mmmm!_ So _good!!”_

 _Prompto frowned. He was concerned. Where did this man_ come _from? Was he poor…? He didn’t quite look it, but then again, how would one really tell? Was he_ homeless _? Feeling a twang of sympathy for the poor starving man and a rare boldness, he asked, “…Would you like one of your own, then?”_

_The man answered instantly. Surprised and hungry-looking. “Yes, please.”_

_Without another wasted second, Prompto raised a hand and silently called over his waiter; a tall man with wiry frames and sandy hair with a lovely accented voice. When the waiter noticed the call for attention he walked over to the table immediately, notepad in hand. Prompto smiled, politely, and he did so in kind._

_“Can I get another plate of spaghetti, please?”_

_“Of course.” The waiter’s eyes flit over to the new addition at the table and he couldn’t help but stare, slightly concerned, when he took note of the way the man was eating with absolutely_ no _manners and an absolute_ need _to shovel the food into his mouth. He watched the stranger sniff at a meatball before eating that as well, humming his approval loudly. Then, he looked back to Prompto. “S-should I make that a rush order?”_

_Sheepishly, Prompto nodded. “If you don’t mind?”_

_“Certainly.” The waiter bowed respectfully and then went off to complete his task._

_By now, the man at Prompto’s table had eaten almost all of the spaghetti. Licking his lips happily, he looked across the table into the blonde’s eyes. His smile fell as he followed Prompto’s line of sight to the nearly empty plate. “Oh, shit- Im sorry!”_

_Prompto startled and waved the apology off, adamantly. “N-no, really! I wasn’t very hungry. A-and there’s another one on the way!” And he really_ didn’t _mind. He could watch that man slurp down a noodle all day and never get tired of it… But it was only a small meal, and he had a few extra dollars to blow this week for once. It felt good to spend it on another person._

 _The black-haired man gave the other a small, hesitant smile, his spirits seeming to lift. “I just don’t eat much.” He picked up the fork up again, stabbing at a few remaining chunks of meat. “I mean- at least I didn’t_ used _to. I plan on eating_ tons _, now!”_

 _Again, Prompto frowned. He leaned in close to whisper, “Are you… A-are you… in some kind of trouble?” He_ did _have a suitcase, after all. Could he be running away from home? From an abusive parent, perhaps? One that hardly fed him?_

 _The handsome stranger looked up at him through tousled bangs and thick lashes. It was like Cupid had struck an arrow straight through Prompto’s heart, and the blonde practically_ melted _under that gaze. He leaned in closer was well, looking around carefully before answering, “Well… I’m on the run, if that’s what you mean.”_

 _Prompto’s brows raised. “Y-you are?!” He_ knew _it. He_ knew _this man was in trouble. He had to help him, no matter what!_

_But then, the man sat up straight and laughed, easily and beautifully. Prompto blushed furiously at how beautiful the man looked when he laughed. “No, stupid! …I just liked the way you were holding yourself. It was kind of interesting… Well, that, and your food looked great.”_

_The blonde blushed and his words stuttered in time with his fluttering heartbeat. “H-how was I h-holding myself?”_

_The stranger began impersonating Prompto without missing a beat, hunching over and pretending to be nose-deep in an imaginary camera. Prompto laughed and not too far behind, so did the other. “You see? You’re_ laughing _at yourself! That’s so… weirdly…_ great _!”_

 _The blonde blushed again, looking away and rubbing his neck. He felt impossibly warm and elated; pleased yet embarrassed to be praised like that out of nowhere. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had been nice to him like that without wanting something in return. Not for a free photography session, not for sex, not even for a bitter joke… But out of pure opinion. “There’s nothing ‘weirdly great’ about me, I_ assure _you...” Suddenly, he remembered that he had not introduced himself. And he didn’t even know_ this _man’s name! In the next instant, he was sticking a welcoming hand out to the man across the table. “I’m Prompto! Prompto Argentum.” The man took it immediately and Prompto’s heart did an absolute summersault inside of his chest. Now, for the good part. “…And you are…?”_

_He looked confused, brows furrowing and head quirking to the side. “…Am I what?”_

_Prompto chuckled. “_ Your _name is…?”_

_It was quiet for a moment. The man’s eyes widened a fraction. Silently, he whispered underneath his breath, speaking words that Prompto can’t make out over the bustle of the restaurant. But when finally he looked up again, eyes sparkling, he announced, proudly, “Noctis! Noctis Lucis Caelum.”_

**…**

Suddenly, Dolo interrupted Prompto’s memories on the gilded stage before them. His adored focus was ripped away, leaving the scene frozen and stagnant. He called on the blonde’s attention with an exclamation of, **“Dinner, I have a question…”**

Prompto tried to bury his frustration as he turned to look in the foul daemon’s direction, but he was positive he wasn’t hiding it well. It was an experience like no other to be able to relive his memories with Noctis. To view them from the outside looking in. Noctis looked _lovely_ up on that stage. Everything felt so accurate, so _real_ , that it seemed he could almost actually _smell_ the food. If there wasn’t a need for this damned circle that surrounded him, he would have lept to his feet and bounded up on that stage. He would have pulled the materialized version of Noctis into his arms and never let go. He hadn’t _wanted_ to look away, hadn’t _wanted_ his eyes to wander elsewhere. But, as it were, he wasn’t the only one watching on. And if the daemon had a question, so be it.

“What is it?”

Their eyes met and the daemon’s narrowed. **“…Did your boyfriend just make up his name?”**

Prompto’s eyes widened as he felt a heavy thud in his chest. He looked away, carding his fingers through his hair in an effort to busy himself. To stall for time. But time for _what_? Nothing, that’s what! The idea was _stupid_. Noctis knew his name. _Everyone_ knew their name. But just because _Prompto_ knew that, that didn’t mean _Dolo_ did... It was an uncultured daemon, after all. What did it know of the real world? There had to be a reasonable explanation. Some way to easily absolve this misunderstanding in his memories…

Maybe Noctis had just _misheard_ Prompto and was trying to figure out the proposed question in his head before replying…?

No, Noctis would have asked him to repeat the question. And the noise of the restaurant hadn’t been _that_ loud. They had heard each other _perfectly_ every other time…

…Ok, then. Maybe he was rehearsing what he was going to say before saying it? It was a telling sign of social anxiety, and Prompto knew _all_ _about_ social anxiety. He was _definitely_ no stranger….

…But no, that didn’t make sense either. Noctis hadn’t needed to rehearse anything _else_ he had told Prompto that day. He had been kind and confident, stealing the blonde’s attention as well as his heart without the slightest of hiccups and at a rather embarrassing rate…

_‘So then…Could it be true…?’_

Noctis _did_ mutter to himself for a bit before telling the blonde his name… Where once he hadn’t remembered that little blip in their introduction, love was a blinder even in the worst of times, and there was no mistaking what he just re-witnessed on that stage… And it _did_ look as if…

_‘No.’_

Prompto shook his head, adamantly. Sure of his conclusion. It couldn’t be true. It _wasn’t_ true. Dolo had the power to procure the stage. Of course it must also have the power to alter the scenes as it saw fit. To toy with his mind and make him unsure of himself.

Prompto cut bright blues towards deep reds. “You’re deceiving me!”

Dolo snarled with a disapproving frown **. “…Watching your life is a much _different_ experience than remembering it…”** Angrily and impatient, it pointed towards the stage once more and Prompto turned to look again, eager to see more despite the daemon’s cruel attempt at a trick.

Noctis _wasn’t_ lying to him…

He _wasn’t_ …

 

**…**

 

_The waiter emerged, bringing out the fresh plate of pasta and setting it on the table before bowing politely and walking towards another customer not too far away._

_Prompto watched Noctis eye it hungrily, but he didn’t touch this one. Instead, his eyes darted between it and the blonde in front of him. Prompto smiled sweetly and pushing the plate towards Noctis. “Really, I’m not hungry…”, he assured. Noctis looked so cute and sweet, obviously wanting to dig in but holding himself back._

_Prompto smiled, resting his head on is palms as he watched Noctis eat happily and this time much slower and calmly. He sighed, wishing that this moment would last longer. But, as it were, his lunch break was almost up… Remembering the time, the blonde looked at his wristwatch with a frown. If only he didn’t have to leave Noctis so soon…_

_Regretfully, he mentioned, “…Actually, I have to go back to work…”_

_Noctis looked up from his meal, genuine curiosity and a bit of confusion shining in his dark eyes, accompanied by a slight frown. “Huh? Why?”_

_Prompto’s brows rose. Where was this guy even from? Maybe he was actually incredibly wealthy and never had to work a day in his life…? Maybe he was one of those kids whose parents had given him a limitless credit card to buy anything he wanted in life…? Man, that would be the life…_

_“Why? Well- because I have to.” Bills didn’t pay themselves and food wouldn’t magically appear in his fridge._

_Noctis scrunched his nose before taking another bite. “…Sounds boring…”_

_Prompto shrugged. “Yeah, well… Gotta make a living somehow, you know?” But Noctis was still staring at him, blankly, as if he didn’t know…_

_He decided to change the subject._

_Prompto looked at the briefcase Noctis had thrusted upon the table earlier in their meeting. It wasn’t like any he’d ever seen; much smaller than the average business suitcase. And the other man was hardly dressed like a businessman. “What’s in there?”, he asked, nodding his head towards the item._

_Noctis shrugged then, avoiding eye contact as he picked at a tomato with his fork. Nonchalantly, he uttered, “A book.”_

_Prompto furrowed his brows, a little let down. That was anticlimactic. “That’s it?”_

_Noctis nodded. “That’s it.”_

_“You keep a book locked up?”_

_“It’s rare.”_

_“…What is it?”_

_Again, Noctis shrugged. “Doesn’t have a name.”_

_“Really?”_

_He nodded. “Not that I‘ve ever found.”_

_Suddenly, from somewhere, the sound of glass smashing erupted. The sound was startling, causing Prompto to jump and look around questioningly. But even more startling was the way Noctis scrambled to jump straight to his feet, causing the chair he was just sitting in to fall and clatter to the ground behind him loudly. Prompto stared worriedly as the black-haired man snatched up his briefcase and clutched it tightly to his chest, head snapping in every direction and eyes wide and fearful. As if he had expected someone to grab him. But after a few moments of nothing further happening, Noctis lowered the briefcase. Coming down from the excitement he panted, chest heaving and legs trembling._

_Prompto frowned and moved to stand up as well. To get closer to the other man and make sure everything was okay. “A-are you okay?!”_

_Nothing could have prepared Prompto for what happened next. Instead of answering, Noctis crumpled to the floor, crying into his hands and with no sign of stopping. It was all Prompto could do but to crouch down next to the man, grasping his trembling shoulders protectively and glancing around for help._

_Fuck work. He’d call out sick for the last half. There were more important things to take care of right now…_

**…**

And that’s how the memory ended. The stage before them slowly faded to black as applause from an undiscovered audience boomed all around them, dying down slowly.

Prompto frowned, feeling his concern from then now as if it had just happened to him seconds ago. He was sad. _Pained_ … What if, wherever Noctis was, he was crying, just like that? What if he was scared and alone, with no way out and no end in sight? The fire was reignited inside of Prompto, making the blonde restless and more determined than ever before. He _had_ to find him as soon as possible…

The daemon sneered. **“Weird guy.”**

Prompto’s brows furrowed in annoyance and he turned to look at the terrible creature before him. Even now, it was still being cruel and trying to make Noctis out for everything he wasn’t. He turned back towards the daemon, putting his back to the darkness. “He’s… different… I _know_ that… That’s what made me fall for him so quickly…“

The daemon sneered. **“ _Fall_ for him…?”** It shook its head, disappointingly and disgusted. **“…You humans speak of love as if it were a ten-story drop…”** Prompto was about to argue, but something moving in his peripheral caught his attention.

Was it Noctis?!

He turned his head swift enough to give him whiplash, but what now met his swimming, double vision was most certainly _not_ Noctis. But even so, it wasn’t unfamiliar. Very familiar, to be precise.

A book. And not just any book. It was none other than _‘The Tragical History of the Life and Death of Doctor Faustus_ ’.

 Prompto blinked a few times, trying to make sense of it. Why _this_ book? And why _here_? Why _now_? But his answer came to him, unconventionally, as the old book fell away to expose a new daemon that now sat behind it, holding it in its black, clawed clutches.

This daemon was far different than Dolo in appearance, but not any less intimidating and fearsome. It resembled a humanoid bird; black as night and larger than the average man, sitting on its haunches merely a few inches from Prompto’s protective circle. Its clawed feet scraped against the wooden floor, the tips stained a bloody red, as if it had just ripped open a man and enjoyed his innards. Covering its chest, oddly enough, was a deep green vest, littered in tiny medals and pins. Its beak was long, and when it opened it to expel a deep, daemonic cackle, Prompto could see more rows of sharp, jagged teeth and a black tongue. Where its eyes would have been there were pulpy, empty holes. The remnants of those eyes rested not too far below, anchored to their sockets and swinging with the daemon’s movement by stringy, putrid veins.

When at once its cackling died down, the daemon grinned at Prompto. As if even without eyes, it could see him perfectly. **“Have you ever read _‘The Tragical History of the Life and Death of Doctor Faustus._ ’…? It’s _hilarious_.”**

Prompto’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open, his heart beating in overdrive at the sight of the raven.

 **“What?!”** , the daemon demanded. **“…Oh. The face… Right.”** It ignored Prompto’s quivering as it extended a wing. To the blonde’s horror, a clawed, humanoid hand emerging from deep within the feathers. The raven was mimicking the way a normal person would offer a handshake. **“The name is Corvus… Pleasure to meet you…”**

Prompto stared between the creature and its hand. The skin of his chest _burned_ beneath his shirt, all too familiarly. Blue eyes flickered to where Dolo had laid, but now Dolo was gone. It was just the two of them.

Seeing that his offer wouldn’t be taken up by the petrified blonde, Corvus retracted its ‘hand’ with an angry huff. It had hoped for Prompto to fall for its trick. To extend his hand outside of the circle. Oh, how it would have enjoyed ripping the limb off and devouring it… But, as it were, it would have to remain hungry for a while longer. **“Oh, you’re one of the _smart_ ones…”** It tore out the rest of its dangling eyes before slamming them back into their sockets right before Prompto. When its wings retracted from its face to reveal new, golden eyes, Prompto gasped.

Yes. This _burning_ sensation, that _book_ … There was no mistaking it.

Corvus grinned, evilly, enjoying the undeniable look of confirmation cross pale, freckled features. **“Yes, that’s right… It’s _me_.”**

Prompto, startled and angry, struggled not to bolt upright and outright _strangle_ the creature. He’d _never_ forget that form. Not in a million years. He’d also never forget the pain that was inflicted to him on that day by the- _thing_ \- before him. Loudly, he accused, “ _You’re_ the daemon who-!!“ His throat tightened as he remembered Noctis’ face. Remembered the sad, fearful, regretful look in his lover’s deep, blue eyes as he was ripped from his arms. Ripped from his _life_. Yes. This was the daemon wo had taken Noctis. Too choked up to continue that line of dialogue, the blonde instead growled, lifting up his t-shirt just as he had done before, exposing his scarred chest. “ _You_ gave me _this_!”

Corvus grinned. **“Oh, my… _That’s_ good work! Man, you are lucky to still be _breathing_!”** Prompto lowered his shirt, refusing to speak another word. He just glared, angrily, as the daemon before him showed no sign of remorse. And of _course_ it wouldn’t. **“Mmm… I can still taste your blood…”** it cackled, enjoying Prompto’s look of hatred and contempt.

“ _You_ took him!”, Prompto growled, pointing and accusatory finger. “ _You_ took Noctis!”

 **“I _know_ … Got a medal for it, too.”** The raven showed off its green vest and pointed towards the largest, shining, silver medal that gleamed in the candle light. **“Now _that’s_ what I call pretty…”**, it jested, proudly.

Prompto released a quick, angry breath. Of _course_. It was _just_ like a raven to love small, shiny objects… That daemon had stolen the one, solitary, sparkling object of happiness in the blonde’s life. And was rewarded another for the trouble….

Life was too cruel.

“Bring… him… back!”, the blonde demanded, blue eyes boring deep into golden ones beneath sharp, furrowed brows. His entire being burned, _screamed_ , to kill this creature. He wanted to so badly that it _hurt_. Almost as much as it hurt to not have Noctis.

**“No.”**

“ _Please!!_ ”, Prompto begged even louder. All at once his anger, his _sorrow_ , made tears burn behind his eyes. His heart ached. We wanted Noctis. He _needed_ him back…

The daemon glared, golden eyes flashing dangerously, like lightening. **“You summoned _Dolo_ , Not I...”** It mocked the blonde cruelly, grinning wide and exposing its bloody teeth.

Prompto rushed to grab the book, ignoring his injured hand and the way he was smearing fresh blood across the pages. If that’s how the daemon wanted to play, then so be it. He’d play. “Then I’ll summon _you_ , you bastard!!”

Corvus cackled demonically, shaking its head. **“…You can’t summon two daemons at once.”**

Prompto stopped. Angry, yet curious, he asked, “Well If I’m not your master, then why are you here?!” As much as he wanted Noctis around, he loathed this creature. Wished for it to leave his sight as soon as possible. As much as he hated to admit it, he would have rather had Dolo and its sarcastic, frustrating demeanor. He wished this daemon dead. To be exploded into a thousand pieces.

The raven sat up straighter. **“Are you kidding? …You’re ‘ _The Mortal that tamed the Beast’_ … I _had_ to get an exclusive with you…”**

Prompto furrowed his brows with a frown, shaking his head in confusion. “I don’t know what you mean.”

The daemon stared deep into the blonde’s eyes, making Prompto shiver against his wishes. **“…Oh, you _do_ know what I mean…”** It leaned in closely, but not enough to breach the circle. It couldn’t. Prompto didn’t budge. **“See- I’ve come into contact with an innumerable number of humans in my day…”** It shrugged. **“Ah, sure, I’ve felt a few things for them: Disgust, embarrassment, sometimes a bit of humor, and _hunger_ … But the one thing I _never_ did was fall in love with any of them...”** Corvus spat the words like venom into Prompto’s face; pure disgust and vehemence. Then, its expressions evened out to one of morbid curiosity. **“…That’s why it’s so… _weird_ …”**

Prompto swallowed, heart beating furiously in his chest. He didn’t like where this conversation was going. He didn’t like the strange, eerie feeling that was slowly crawling up his spine, taking the warmth from his bones and tying his stomach in knots. “…What’s weird?” Did he even want to know?

**“…That _it_ … fell in love… with _you_ …”**

Prompto’s brows furrowed. The hair at the back of his neck stood on end, “… _’It’_ …?”

The daemon shrugged. **“Well, _you_ call it ‘Noctis’...”**

The world stopped. Everything stopped. Prompto’s eyes widened and he looked away, shocked.

 _‘No. No, it_ can’t _be...! This is just another_ trick _! Noctis wasn’t…! Noctis…’_

Still refusing to even _look_ at the raven in acknowledgement, Prompto shook his head adamantly in disbelief. “You’re _playing_ with me!”

 **“I don’t play with my food, Dinner...”** Startled, Prompto looked up to see the raven gone, nowhere to be found. Instead, the now-familiar form of Dolo was back at his side outside of the circle, glowering up at him from his place on the floor.

The blonde felt nauseous even though he was relieved to not be around Corvus any longer. But now, even _Dolo_ was in on it.

Daemons were far too cruel…

“I-I’m done listening to you! You’re only trying to confuse me!”

The daemon snarled with a growl. **“I bring you the daemon who took your love… and you _insult_ me?!”**

Prompto’s brows furrowed as he stared into Dolo’s eyes.

Wait… If it knew what daemon _took_ Noctis then- that would mean…! But- it said it don’t know him!

“…I thought you didn’t know him.”, the blonde tested.

Without missing a beat, **“I lied… I do that sometimes.”**

Prompto sneered, shaking his head. He had been right all along! And instead of gathering his boyfriend as soon as possible, the creature had sent him on a wild goose chase, just to waste his time! It was maddening. “You’re disgusting.”, he spat.

 **“To call me disgusting is to call him disgusting. We come from the same milk, so to speak, after all…** ” Prompto didn’t have a response for that, still refusing to acknowledge the stupid notion. **“…You don’t seem to be a very intelligent lad, so I’ll explain it to you for the simple reality it is: Daemons- _all_ daemons- will eat, kill, and rape _anything_ …”**, It growled, but there was no denying the amused glint in its bloody eyes. It enjoyed the blonde’s pain.

Prompto shook his head. He couldn’t make sense of it at all. It was too much in such a short amount of time. But he couldn’t stop his mind from searching. From going through each and ever interaction he had had with Noctis. The strange way he had dressed at any given moment, the way even the simplest, well-known thing was like a fun, new fact to the man. Even the way he interacted with other people around them, as if mimicking what he _thought_ was the appropriate response or emotion should be... Prompto had thought of him to just be _unique_ or _quirky_ … Not a _daemon_ …

“A-and what about me…? If he- If he’s everything you say he is, then w-where do I fit in…?”

Dolo sneered. **“What _about_ you?!”** Again, there was no response. Just a pair of sullen, blue eyes that stared down at him in silence. **“…That _does_ amuse me to think about… But, you see, the thing about Noctis was that pesky heart of his… You never knew _what_ emotion it would settle into next…”**

Prompto’s heart _broke_.

It _couldn’t_ be true… but it _was_. This went _beyond_ a joke. Beyond a _game_ … It was the truth, no matter how he looked at it, now. He was so _blind_ before… How could he not have _realized_?

A single tear fell down a freckled cheek, with more barely being contained behind it. “…He _loved_ me…”, the blonde protested in a watery voice through quivering lips to the daemon before him.

He remembered their first time, snuggled deeply into the blankets of his bed, just home from a night of raving and bar hopping, as Noctis normally enjoyed more than anything recently. The alcohol had made their heads fuzzy and their reservations nonexistent. He could remember it so clearly… The rain pleating steadily against his windowpanes and the way the lights strung up along his headboard illuminated Noctis’ gorgeous face, expression scrunched in ecstasy as he rode him slowly and carefully, cherishing every brush of his cock inside of him as if it were his first time. How he moaned Prompto’s name like a prayer and clung to his shoulders in ecstasy, trembling with his release. How Prompto had flipped the two of them over, taking control and finishing just a minute or two later. He remembered how Noctis’ hair smelled as he held him close, drifting off into a restful sleep. The whispered, almost _reverent_ , sighed exclamation of love from Noctis’ flushed, sleepy lips. He remembered how the whole world around them, still thrumming and noisy with life despite the late hour, faded away entirely and there was only the two of them…

 **“Maybe.”** The daemon snatched the blonde from his memories with its noncommittal, bored agreeance. **“…But that doesn’t change the _facts_... You see, it happens all the time… He gets restless, he doesn’t understand why no one else does… He calls in the middle of the night, saying ‘ _I don’t know why I feel this way!_ ’. I don’t know _what_ to tell him! _I_ don’t know why he feels this way! One minute he’s a killer- a _killer_ \- and the next, he’s a fucking _mess_!”**

Prompto listened to the story, brows raising steadily. Finally, he understood. “…You were his friend.”

Dolo suddenly stood on its hands and roared, shaking the space around them with the ferocity of it. **“No.”**

Prompto smirked. If it was this easy to rile the daemon up, then he’d continue. Maybe then, he’d get somewhere. Prompto challenged, “…You _can’t_ bring him. That’s why you haven’t done it. You don’t have the _strength_ it takes to do as I command.”

 **“I don’t have the _strength_?!”**, it repeated, incredulous. It’s deep, red eyes flashed and it’s clawed fingers dug into the floor.

“You can’t even _walk_. You’re crippled.”

Angrily, the daemon lifted its hand, and Prompto felt his throat being choked, even though there was no physical touch. The daemon grinned, evilly. **“Do you feel that…?! The essence of my hand, breaking through your barrier and squeezing your neck…?!”** The blonde couldn’t answer even if he wanted to, lungs trying futilely to inhale. **“I may not be able to kill you from here, but I am most _certainly_ powerful enough to make you _feel_ … _my_ … _desire_ to!”** It laughed, taking a long moment to enjoy watching Prompto gasp uselessly for breath, squirming helplessly in place and clawing at the nonexistent hand around his throat.

And then, at once, it stopped. Prompto crumpled to the ground, clutching his reddened neck and gasping deeply for air as Dolo turned and crawled away, leaving him alone.

Through blurry eyes and a dizzy mind, burning lungs and sputtering coughs, Prompto searched through the darkness. “…Dolo?” Nothing. “…Hello? …Dolo? …Dolo?!” Still nothing.

He was alone.

Slowly, as his senses slowly fled back to him, Prompto took the rare moment of silence to think and reflect on everything that had happened until now. Of everything that he had learned.

 _‘Noctis is a daemon... He’s_ always _been a daemon... Does that mean he didn’t love me…? No. Of_ course _he loved me. I_ know _he did! …And yet, here I am… sitting in some interdimensional pit stop, hearing stories of him slaughtering men for sport... Well- that’s just it! These daemons are_ liars, _aren’t they?. Dolo_ admitted _that! …But… What about the book…? A human wouldn’t have a book like that… He could have only gotten it from one place: Hell… He’s from_ Hell _… Did he really love me? Maybe I was just a refuge from the daemons; a perfect patsy…’_

Prompto didn’t fight the wave of tears, not the crushing wave of confusion and sorrow that overtook him. He cried; freely, openly, and loudly. He _grieved_. For himself, for his situation, for Noctis…

It was crazy. Stupid or unreal, even. But despite everything he had just been told, despite the flaws in his own memory, he _still_ loved Noctis… He still yearned to be by his side. To go back to the times they shared in his apartment… Yes. He wanted to hold Noctis closely and never let go. To bring him back and grow old with him…

if daemons even _could_ grow old, that is…

 **“…You’re silly.”** Prompto looked up at the daemon slowly through blurry, stinging, puffy eyes. He wasn’t startled to see Dolo appear out of nowhere again. It was an over-used party trick at this point. Even still, he wasn’t in any hurry to indulge the daemon with a response. He was tired, and he didn’t want to argue the accusation anymore… All the same, the daemon ignored Prompto’s pathetic blubbering as well. Its red eyes glanced down at the floor between them before meeting the blonde’s blue eyes once more. **“…The circle is closing in on you…”** , it warned. **“…The more you sit in there, the more the brain leaks…”** Prompto’s eyes widened slightly and he straightened, wiping his eyes and cheeks with the back of his good hand as he found the daemon’s words to be truth. The circle was almost half the size it once was. **“…I found you something…”**

Prompto’s head snapped up, hope sparking a fire in his soul. “Noctis?!”

 **“No. No way, Dinner, he’s in some _serious_ lock-up right now…”** The blonde frowned, sullen once more. **“…I brought a couple of kids to speak in his place…”** Dolo pointed behind Prompto, and the blonde turned sharply as he heard the pained wailing of an unknown man and a woman. Standing a ways away from the circle, they stood, naked and bloody from head to toe, terrified. Prompto watched the two look all around them with large eyes, as if scared of where they now were and not understanding why they were there. Even still, they did not look at the blonde in his circle nor the daemon that laid next to it. It was as if they was invisible to them; only able to _be_ _seen_ but not _see_.   **“…I made them for you.”**

Prompto swallowed. Their screams of terror twisted his gut and made his heart beat in a painted sympathy. “…W-what are they?”

 **“…They _used_ to be human…”** The daemon met Prompto’s eyes with an evil grin. **“…Guess who killed them.”** Prompto bit his lip. ‘ _Noctis_.’ **“…Now, they live _here_.”**

“What _is_ this?”, Prompto demanded, “Why are you showing me this?”

**“It is the business; what we do… If you want me to find Noctis, I want you to know what Noctis _is_ …”**

Didn’t he know well enough?! Hadn’t he heard all there was to know?! His heart hurt. He didn’t _want_ to know more. He didn’t want the image of Noctis in his mind to be twisted and tainted any further.

The unknown woman spoke through tears, still searching for the voices of the unseen Prompto and Dolo, but never finding them. “The daemon- it tricked us!”, she called. Prompto looked to her. _“It promised us a baby!”_ The woman clutched her stomach, nails digging into her bloodied skin as she sobbed, mourning what was no longer within her.

Next, the man spoke. _“One piece of life for our eternal souls…”_

_“The daemon… it gave us what we wanted. And for nine months, I knew my true purpose in life… It was to raise this child and love it…”_

Prompto swallowed, feeling their pain in strong waves. From his place in his circle he could see how their forms were bruised and broken, showing an indiscernible amount of time spent being tortured and toyed with. “A-and… the child?”

The woman clutched herself again; searching and sorrowful. _“…It died…”_ The man fell to his knees by her feet, crying, and she joined him in his pain, wrapping her arms around him as they both shook and they openly mourned missing piece of their loving puzzle. But then, suddenly, the woman stood. _“Please! Take us with you!”_

Prompto’s eyes widened. “I-I-I… I’m sorry?”, he asked, shocked at what was being proposed.

Next, the man rose to his feet, searching the space around him with a look nothing short of desperate. _“Yes! Please!! Get us out of here!!’_

_“We can’t take it anymore!”_

Prompto’s heart lept into his throat and his body shook. How could he deny them, when they had suffered so much? “I-I-!” He didn’t know what to say. He _knew_ he couldn’t do it. He _knew_ he had no choice but t deny them. If he took one of them with him, if he _freed_ them, then he wouldn’t be able to take Noctis… His own love would be stuck here in Hell, forever.

_“If you can’t take us both, then Please!! Take me!!”_

_“No!! Take me!!”_

The blonde screwed his eyes shut and covered his ears. Sorrow raged on in his heart as he forced his lips to deny them. “I’m sorry, but I can’t!!” He continued to cry out his apologies as they wails waged on, badgering him with pleas for freedom. Until, finally, Prompto could take it no more. Loudly and apologetically, he yelled, “I will not take you with me! I-I’m sorry! But the only one I’m leaving here with is Noctis! Now- please! Go back to the Hell where you came from!!”

Silence.

When he opened his eyes, breathing heavily and heart pounding, they were gone. Only he and Dolo remained.

The daemon chuckled. **“Now _that’s_ funny. Think about all the times you told someone to go to hell. And now think about _exactly_ what it is you’re wishing upon them…”**

Prompto shook his head. His heart still hurt for the couple and for what was done to them. He was in no mood for anymore cruel jokes. He wanted Noctis. “…Just get Noctis for me.”

 **“I can’t. And it’s _not_ because I’m a ‘ _cripple’_ …”** The daemon levelled a heavy look into blue eyes. **“…Do you want to know why my legs drag behind me like a serpent’s tail? …I promise I won’t lie.”**

Still angry that the daemon was refusing him his _one_ desire, Prompto shook his head again, glowering down at it. “I don’t _care_!”

 **“It was Noctis.”** _That_ gathered Prompto’s attention, and he sat up straighter, eyes widening. **“…My legs were _crushed_ when he was returned.”**

In Prompto’s mind, that could only mean one thing. Could only lead him to one conclusion. “…You _helped_ him?”

The daemon stared at him in a long, still, heavy silence. **“…A daemon heart or not, one should _never_ entertain the idea that love is the answer to its questions…”** Another long silence. **“…He’s back home now, but no longer free… Held in the deepest pits and in the sharpest of pains… If ever a man was detained, it’s _him_ … Would you really want to see him again, given all you know…?”**

Prompto thought on it. Thought on Corvus’ words as well as those of the unknown couple. “I… I don’t know what are lies and what aren’t…”

 **“…Nor were you meant to.”** The daemon watched Prompto in a long silence before sighing, shaking its head. **“…Would you like to see him again?”** Prompto met his eyes. Was this another trick? **“…Then think about him.”**

And he did.

Closing his eyes, Prompto thought on another fond time the two of them shared. He envisioned the white that blanketed the world outside of his small apartment. The colorful lights that shone along the buildings and beneath the full moon and twinkling stars. The smell of hot chocolate and freshly-baked gingerbread and the sound of Noctis’ laughter. Thick blankets and the space heater cranked high.

From behind him, the jingling of bells sounded, perfectly accompanying his memories.

Prompto opened his eyes and turned around. The stage was back again.

His heartbeat, bull of love, went aflutter as his eyes laid on Noctis in this materialized rendition once more. Both of them were sitting on the sofa by his tiny, pathetic excuse for a Christmas tree in the corner of the room. In front of them, a classic Christmas film played and Noctis looked enthralled with it, cuddled up next to his blonde.

He _remembered_ this moment…

 

**…**

_Prompto sighed, ignoring the holiday flick in lieu of staring at his boyfriend’s mesmerized and entertained face. How those deep yet vibrantly expressive eyes shone, watching it for what he had said was the first time. Gods, he loved him… He loved this man so, so much…_

_And the night wasn’t over. There was still one last thing to do before the day ended and the holiday was over before they knew it…_

_Disturbing his partner’s comfy hold on his midsection momentarily, Prompto turned and reached behind his small sofa, pulling out a brightly-wrapped package. It was possibly the most terribly-wrapped present in existence, but he had put his all into it. He smiled at Noctis’ wide-eyed look of wonder as he handed it to its intended, his heart fluttering with excitement. It was the first time he had ever given a present to a loved one. He hoped Noctis would like it._

_Noctis grasped the present carefully and his face lit up beautifully as he admired the red, reflective polka dots and the large, curly, green bow. He turned it over in his hands a few times before meeting his boyfriend’s eyes; questioningly, as if asking if it was actually intended to be for him. When Prompto nodded with a light-hearted chuckle, the black-haired man slowly began to unwrap the gift. When at last the paper was ripped off and discarded somewhere to the floor, a bright red box was revealed. Again, Noctis looked up at Prompto, inquisitively, asking a silent permission. And again, Prompto nodded. Noctis opened the box and rifled through the accompanying green tissue paper until it revealed the present._

_A book._

_‘The Tragical History of the Life and Death of Doctor Faustus.’_

_Noctis quirked his head as he looked up at Prompto, brows raising adorably. “A book?”_

_The blonde nodded, smile growing even wider. “Have you ever read it?”_

_“No.”_

_“Well, it’s good! It’s uh- I mean- You know, I figured you liked rare books since you keep that one locked up, so… It’s a- It’s a 1663 reprint! So- you know, not one of the oldest, but it’s still pretty old.”_

_Noctis furrowed his brows, contemplating, helplessly lost. “…You thought I might like this… so you got it for me…?”_

_Prompto bit his lip, suddenly feeling anxious. Did Noctis hate it? Did he fuck up? “Y-yeah! I-I mean… Do you like it?”_

_Slowly, a smile crept onto Noctis’ face, accompanied by a lovely flush of pink. His deep eyes met Prompto’s again after another glance at his gift, irises sparkling with joy. “I think I do!” He looked back to the book, carefully tracing over the cover with his fingertips. “I’ve never read a book before!” He stopped, then, eyes widening a fraction and body tensing for a short moment as he added, “Except mine.”_

_Prompto quirked his head with an incredulous, amused smile. “You’ve… never read a book?”_

_Noctis nodded. “Except mine.”, he repeated._

_Prompto was flabbergasted. “…Nothing? …Never? …Not even in school?”_

_Noctis’ eyes widened before he pushed out a breath, shrugging. “Phh! I mean- yeah, in school… I’ve read a couple hundred in school…” He gnawed on his bottom lip for a moment, searching Prompto’s expression for something. But then, he continued, “No- I meant other than school.” Embarrassed, his eyes bounced between his boyfriend and his gift. He changed the subject. “W-what’s it about?”_

_“Oh! Uh…” Prompto thought on it. He’d read the book, but it had been a long time ago, in high school. “It’s about a guy who sells his soul to the devil for knowledge and power.”_

_Noctis stifled a laugh with the roll of blue eyes. “Well, that’s stupid… There’s nothing to know. Nothing worth that much pain, at least…”_

_Prompto brushed off the little twang of hurt at the comment. Through his rising panic, he jested, “Oh, yeah? You’ve been there?”_

_“No!” Noctis sat up straighter with wide eyes. “Never!” Nervously, he laughed, and Prompto couldn’t help but laugh too, even though he was a little confused as to his lover’s stranger-than-normal behavior._

_“You’re so… bizarre…” Prompto said, fondly, and they stared happily at one another for a soft while. Then, “..Well?”_

_Noctis quirked an inquisitive brow. “…Well, what?”_

_“I can’t take the tease anymore!”_

_“…Tease?”_

_Prompto grinned, helping his lover understand what he was meaning with an outstretch of his hands, palms up and ready to accept something. “I want my present now, please!”_

_Noctis’ smile fell. “…U-um… Your present…?”, he asked._

_Prompto tried not to let his smile falter. Noctis couldn’t have forgotten to get him something for Christmas, could he…? Again, he covered his anxiousness with a jest, playing along. “R-Right, right, nice try! Where’s it at? I want the goods, bring it out!” Still, Noctis’ expression remained sullen. Finally, Prompto realized that there really was no present. “…You really didn’t get me a present?” He watched as Noctis bit his bottom lip. His looked as though he was about to cry. Prompto sat up straighter and his hands flew in the air between them, waving frantically. “Oh- Oh, God- No. No, Baby, it’s fine!” He pulled the other man in close and rubbed along his back soothingly. “I didn’t mean to expect one! I just- You know, with Christmas, I thought the whole- you know- thing…” He could feel Noctis shaking with unshed sadness and regret, and the blonde pried him from his chest to stare reassuringly into his watery eyes. “Baby, it’s so not important. I promise!”_

_“…I’m so sorry… We…” Noctis sniffled, wiping at his pink face. “…We never celebrated Christmas… I thought it was just one big party that ended December 25 th…”_

_Prompto smiled a lopsided, confused grin. Noctis was so strange, so cute… “Are you serious?”_

_Noctis didn’t confirm nor deny. He merely looked up at his boyfriend through thick lashes. “…Do you hate me?”, he asked, voice nothing more than a scared whisper._

_The blonde smiled, genuinely, helping to wipe the wetness from his lover’s face. Honestly, as strange as the feeling was to him, he replied, “…I think I might actually love you a little more now.” He chuckled. “That’s… weird.”_

_Noctis finally smiled then, pressing his forehead against his lover’s. “I told you… I’m a weird guy.”_

_“Good. I wouldn’t have it any other way…”_

_They shared a kiss, then. Soft. Exploring. One that had Prompto leaning back, pulling Noctis willingly down with him. Their lips moved against one another, the tips of their tongues sneaking out to meet and tangle. But then suddenly Noctis broke away and slapped Prompto’s chest, beaming. Dazed, and love-drunk, Prompto blinked up at his lover as he remained laying on the couch, panting._

_“Wait! I do have a present for you!”, Noctis exclaimed excitedly. He left, dashing to their shared bedroom as fast as he could, leaving Prompto half hard and pouting adorably._

_“Hey- wait!” The blonde sat back up, attempting to watch his adorable lover as the other man’s form disappeared behind his bedroom door down the hall. “You can’t wrap something I already own! That’s not how it works!”, he calls out, teasingly. He sat there happily as he listened to his lover rummage. But then he straightened, eyes widening as he watched Noctis walk back towards him, holding onto the briefcase the blonde had grown to get used very familiar with. After all, Noctis took it everywhere they went. It was his one and only prized possession._

_Other than Prompto, of course._

_Noctis sat down and set the case between them and Prompto licked his lips, hesitant to ask, “…You’re giving me your book?”_

_“Well… You gave me a book…”, Noctis answered, honestly and adorably, nibbling along his bottom lip nervously._

_Prompto let out a quiet chuckle. “…Touché.” Carefully, he pulled the case closer, out of Noctis’ hands, and began working to undo the latches._

_Finally, he would see this book…_

_After opening the briefcase slowly, Prompto took hold of the book and pulled it out carefully. It was the strangest book he’d ever seen. Unlike any other book he knew of. The cover felt strange, and he couldn’t quite place why. And in the center of it was an eerie looking green eye. He turned his gift over in his hands before looking back to Noctis, who was staring at him expectantly and nervously. Prompto smiled, reassuringly, before moving to open it up and take a look at what was written inside-_

_But then, unexpectedly, Noctis’ hand shot out to grasp his wrist, stopping him. “No! That’s something you can never do!”_

_Prompto was confused. Why else would you have a book, if not to read it? “…What, open it?”, he asked, genuinely confused._

_“Never!”, Noctis reaffirmed, eyes wide and body language urgent. “Do you promise me?” He was looking at the blonde heavily, as if breaking this promise would shatter entire whole world._

_“Baby- Noctis, It’s just a-“_

_He leaned forward, holding Prompto’s face in his hands, firmly. “No.” He stared into Prompto’s eyes. “You have to burn this book...” Prompto’s brows furrowed. Burn? “No questions, no looking… Just, someday, when I’m not around… Burn it.”_

_Why is Noctis getting so serious about not reading it? Was it a diary…? Could he be embarrassed of the things written there? “Noctis… What is this?”_

_“My past.” Another long, heavy, weighted, desperate stare. “…Never ask me that question again... Burn… this... book.” Suddenly, Noctis’ demeaner took a 180-degree turn. He leaned away, all light smiles and sparkling eyes. “…And wish me a Merry Christmas?”_

_It was strange. It was weird. It was… not something Prompto expected._

_He had more questions than he did answers, now. And even more than that, there was this lingering fear, deep within him, that told him Noctis wouldn’t be here forever… But he refused to think about it. The gift was thoughtful and lovely and he wanted to live in this moment. Everything else could wait. Could be figured out in the future. Right here, right now, he wanted to enjoy this moment._

_And so, with a smile, he crawled his way over to Noctis’ side of the couch and delivered a tender kiss to his awaiting lips. Noctis sighed, tugging his boyfriend down to hover and lay above him. As they kissed sweetly, Noctis wrapped his arms around his blonde’s neck._

_Everything afterwards was soft gasps and tender, muted cries of pleasure._

_The rest of the movie went entirely unwatched, and neither of them cared._

_There was always next year._

**…**

**_“Deeaamonnn…”_** , Dolo declared sarcastically, again pointing out the obvious that Prompto had not seen until re-watching his memories. Even _Prompto_ couldn’t deny it anymore…

Solemnly, he nodded.

 _‘…Why wasn’t he honest with me to begin with? …He honestly didn’t trust me enough with the truth... He was_ ashamed _, or… he had an agenda... And he knew_ exactly _how to play me… I’m a pushover… Ridiculously bad social skills and zero friends and family… All I had was him, and it_ worked _... It worked, because that’s the way he_ wanted _it... He needed a place to_ hide _… I was nothing but a fake mustache...’_

Prompto tried to push the negative thoughts away, but they weren’t shaking this time. They clung to him like the darkness that surrounded him.

He wanted to know the truth. _Needed_ to know the truth… And the only way to get that information was to see Noctis again.

 **“The circle is closing in on you…”** , the daemon warned again through the blonde’s silence, boredly.

Prompto shrugged. “…I can deal.”

Dolo shook his head. **“…Fine, then. Allow me to offer you something while we wait on your assured demise…”**

From beside Prompto, out of the darkness, the sound of squeaking wheels accompanied by footsteps appeared. The blonde tensed, awaiting the inevitable presence of another wretched, evil daemon, but his froze when a man in a perfectly tailored suit appeared, pushing with him a cart with assorted bottles and vials on it. The man stopped just short of the circle, staring down at the blonde through wiry, familiar frames. His sandy hair was spiked away, out of his face.

_“…May I take your order, Sir?”, he asked, politely._

Prompto stared at the man, shocked. He couldn’t believe his eyes.

_‘Even him?!’_

The man pushed his glasses up his nose, ignoring the way the blonde was balking up at him. _“…Perhaps a drink to start off with?”_

The blonde’s eyes narrowed. “I know you.”, he declared, angrily. It was the same waiter who had taken his order the day he had met Noctis.

 _“I doubt that._ ”, the waiter answered, flatly.

“You were my waiter!”

 _“I am_ the _waiter… Sir…”_ Again, brushed off with that stiff, neutral expression. It was clear that he wasn’t planning on indulging the blonde’s accusations. _“Now… how about that drink?”_

Anger flared inside of Prompto.

How far could this go?! Exactly how much of everything he once knew was a lie in disguise?! How far did this rabbit hole go?! Was _everyone_ in his life a daemon?! His mom? Dad? Teachers? Was _everyone_ in on this?!

He glared. “No.”

 _“I assure you, Sir, I am the_ best _bartender in this room…”_

Prompto turned his head to look at Dolo, who was smirking up at him, resting his head in his clawed hands. “…I believe that. But I don’t want anything except Noctis.”

_“I will make you the best drink you’ve ever tasted…”_

Prompto replied adamantly, through gritted teeth, “I don’t _want_ a drink. I want _Noctis_.”

The waiter smiled. _“Then I will call it…_ Noctis _…”_ The waiter mixed up the drink quickly and elegantly, almost as if doing a dance. Despite himself Prompto was mesmerized, watching him pour various colored liquids from various bottles, only to pour it all into a little container and then shake it up. He put a few ice cubes in a crystal glass and when he poured the final liquid into it, it was another color entirely. A bright, shining blue that almost seemed to glow. The waiter set the drink before him on the ground and pushed it into the circle, carefully, using a crystal dagger.

He _knew_ it… This guy was another daemon.

Prompto suddenly, surprisingly, felt thirsty. It was almost as if the drink was calling his name in Noctis’ voice, softly and lovingly… Still, he glared up at the man. “I don’t... _want_... It.”

Dolo growled, frustratedly. **“It’s not _poison_ …”** Prompto looked at him, skeptically. **“It _weakens_ the _being_ … I can’t bring Noctis to you... _You_ have to go to _him_ … It’s the only way.”**

Prompto blinked. Okay, now he was _really_ confused… “You… actually want me to go into Hell?”

The daemon smiled almost genuinely, perking up from his place along the floor. **“Yes, I do… That drink loosens the soul, allowing you to travel- _relatively_ unharmed- through the fires and the pits… It’s the only way a living man can pass through Hell…”** It leveled Prompto with a look, quirking its head challengingly. **“Now… Is your ‘ _Noctis’_ worth what you have to do to see him…?”**

Prompto glared at the daemon before looking towards the glass in front of him. Of _course_ Noctis was worth it!

Slowly, and with shaking hands, Prompto brought the crystal glass to his lips. It smelt of memories… Of cotton candy and the crisp, fall air. Of Noctis’ scent in his sheets and rain outside the windows. He heard voices. Carnival organ pipes and his lover’s light, carefree laughter, floating on the wind…

He’d do it. For Noctis, he’d do it. He’d walk through those flames of Hell.

Prompto screwed his eyes shut tightly and downed the drink in one shot. The liquid burned down his throat, much the same as alcohol would, but the bite was stronger. Gone was that candied scent. The substance tasted like vile, putrid meat. He instantly wanted to vomit, but he covered his mouth and held his breath, forcing the drink to stay down in its entirety. And when he finished, he slammed the crystal glass down onto the floor in triumph.

Dolo laughed.

Slowly at first; mere chuckles. Until, finally, the amusement could no longer be contained and it tossed its horned head back and cackled loudly.

Dread pooled in Prompto’s gut, mixing uneasily with the drink. He stared at the daemon, trying not to panic. “…W-what’s so funny?”

 **“It _was_ poison!”** Prompto’s eyes widened as Dolo continued to laugh. He looked back towards the waiter, only to see that he was no longer there. Actually, to the blonde’s utter dismay, the damned _raven_ daemon had appeared again, in his place.

Dolo’s laughter faded away as it waved at him.

 **“…Just me, Buddy.”** Prompto felt dizzy. He looked down, focusing on a specific spot on the floor to keep his head straight. His insides were beginning to burn. His heart was beating hard, almost _painfully_ , as if trying to fight back against the poison that was now in his system. **“…I heard you fell for the old ‘ _Drink this and you can walk through Hell’_ bit, hmm?” **it asked, amused, sharp teeth gleaming in the candlelight.

Prompto glanced around him, frantically. He was alone with this Raven again. Dolo was nowhere to be found. In the wake of its dark, amused laughter, a dark, foreboding emptiness... “Bring back Dolo.”

Corvus refused, smirking. **“I refuse… After all, it’s not like I’m that daemon’s _keeper_ …”**

Prompto shook his head, wanting to be angry, but the action only helped to double his already unsteady vision. “…Am… Am I dying?”

Corvus didn’t miss a beat. **“ _Absolutely_. But _slowly_ …”** Hearing that, Prompto’s eyes widened. **“…Daemons like to use _slow_ poisons so they can… watch you twitch.”**

“…I-Is there anything I can do?”, the blonde asked, desperately, but his voice sounded weak and quiet in his burning ears.

The daemon expanded its wings, at once looking larger and more intimidating. **“ _Leave_ … Get to a hospital… _Pump_. _It_. _Out_ …”**

Prompto grimaced. He _couldn’t_ do that. Not when he had come so _far_. Not when he was so close to finding Noctis. “…I’m not leaving here without him.” His lungs were beginning to burn with every inhale.

Corvus shook its head in disgust. **“Aint no ‘ _him’_ … Stop calling it a male. That’s a _human_ cage… _We_ are not _defined_ by sex…”** Prompto’s head was still spinning. He needed to hold it in his hands in order to keep his gaze locked on the creature before him and not everywhere at once. His fingers felt numb. They sat in silence for a second before, **“…So this whole ‘love’ thing… Give me the breakdown.”**

Every word was piercing Prompto’s skull like a knife. He tried not to wince, listening. He felt _tired_. So, so tired… He just wanted the daemon to stop talking... “…I don’t know what to tell you…”, he answered, truthfully.

**“…One time I tortured a guy who said it was like a lump in your throat that you couldn’t swallow… Sounded annoying…”**

Prompto swallowed. He felt like each inhale was becoming a battle. “…He was wrong. A lump is too simple. Love is more complicated than that… There’s no way I can _define_ something you will never _feel_ …”

Corvus growled. **“I’m a _daemon_.”**, it argued, **“I can do _anything_ …”**

Prompto smirked, chuckling under his panting breath. He looked the daemon in its eyes and he didn’t know if it was because he wasn’t scared of the creature anymore or if the poison was beginning to rot his brain, but he felt no fear whatsoever for the repercussions of his words when he spat out, “Except love.”

The daemon growled again, frowning. **“Well maybe I _can_ , I just don’t want you to _know_ that I can…”**

Prompto scoffed. “That’s a childish way to go about it.”

**“Not being capable of love is a _gift_. I present Exhibit A as ultimate proof: One poor fool, slowly dying in a circle.”**

Prompto couldn’t help but laugh. It was right. Well- at least it _would_ be, had it felt anything akin to love at all. His situation _did_ look stupid. Pointless. A lost cause, even. But Prompto knew better. The time he had spent with Noctis, doing even the most trivial, _insignificant_ of things, was special. Every second had been the most precious and also the most stressful and frustrating times of his life. Like a rollercoaster that he couldn’t get off of. And he _loved_ it. Loved the good as _well_ as the bad…

Not receiving any more of an answer, Corvus narrowed its eyes and bristled its feathers. **“Stop that. You look like a child who’d just proudly shit its pants.”**

Prompto grinned, triumphantly. “…What’s the matter? Can’t handle the fact that you don’t know everything…?”

 **“Here’s a warning: You die here, and you belong to _us_ …”** And with those final words, Corvus spread its wings and beat them furiously before flying away, into the empty nothing.

Prompto’s smile slowly fell as he was left alone again. His arms and legs had grown completely numb and the laughter had made him worryingly winded. His eyes felt droopy and hard to keep open. He just wanted to sleep…

If only he could sleep…

The candles around his circle were down to almost nothing. How long had he been in this dimension? Hours? Days?

 _‘…I’m dying… I’m terrified of death more than_ anything _… Should I go?_ Abandon _all of this?_ Leave _him? …I don’t want to die… But… I don’t want to live_ without _him…’_

Dolo reappeared into the blonde’s peripheral, watching him curiously, as if it would get to see Prompto die at any moment and the thought made it _happy_.

Prompto glared, but the act felt too weak. “…You poisoned me.”

**“… _And_?”**

“Why did… Why did he mark your page?”

**“Maybe it was a coincidence. Or maybe he thought I was cute?”**

Prompto’s glare held through his haze and the feeling of his body growing weaker by the second. “…You’re so afraid to give me a straight answer… If I’m just a stupid human, then why do I scare you so much?”

 **“The safely of that circle has swelled your ego something fierce.”** , Dolo accused, angrily.

The blonde blinked, rapidly. His vision was going blurry around the edges. But he still had so, so many thoughts. So many unanswered questions…  “…Why did you help him escape?”

**“What I do in my own time is no concern of _yours_ …”**

“They _crushed_ your _body_!”, Prompto yelled, as loud as his struggling voice chords would allow him.

 **“AND RIGHTFULLY SO!!”** , the daemon roared, standing up on its hands to be eye level with the blonde, bloody eyes piercing deep. **“I PAID MY PRICE!”** It roared. **“There’s no need for you to be involved in _daemon_ _affairs_!”**

Prompto was suddenly wracked with violent coughs and he bent over, sputtering hot, dark blood onto the back of his trembling wrist. When he looked down at it, his eyes widened.

Dolo grinned, happily. **“…You’re not built for Hell… _Trust_ me.”**

The blonde couldn’t help but to laugh. He looked back up at the daemon through disheveled, sweaty bangs. “…I’m so touched that you’re so _concerned_ for my well-being…”, he thanked, sarcastically. He could still taste the blood at the back of his throat. Could still smell it in his nose as he took a shaky inhale.

The creature frowned. **“…There’s nothing you can do for him. He _broke_ a sacred law! _He_ is a vile creature!”**

“…Maybe I don’t care about that...”

**“Oh, you _really_ should…”**

“…That’s who he was _here_ …” Another wracking cough. “…T-that’s _not…_ who he was in _my_ world…”

Dolo narrowed its eyes. **“…An escaped murderer… is still… a _murderer_.”**

 _‘No. Not more of this shit. I’m done. I’ll show him… Once and for All… Noctis isn’t like what it says he is… Noctis_ saved _me… I have to show him.’_

Prompto worked his absolute hardest to move his unwilling body that sat there like heavy lead, then. To turn away from the daemon. He stared into the darkness and focused, willing back the stage.

And when it appeared, Dolo watched, intrigued as to what it would show them.

The scene was a familiar one to Prompto. All too familiar… It was the night Noctis was taken from him…

 

**…**

_They laid the same way they always happened to find themselves each night: Buried under layers and layers of thick blankets, Noctis clinging tightly to Prompto like an octopus and snoring, peacefully. Prompto was on his back, sleeping soundly despite the lack of moving room and the stifling heat of the blankets. Noctis was always unnaturally cold and always required a hefty amount of comfort and warmth before being able to fall asleep. And even so, it rarely lasted. More and more often lately, it seemed, the nightmares plagued him._

_Even now, he would not enjoy a full night’s rest._

_As if on a scheduled clockwork, Noctis started twitching beneath the blankets. Then moving, restlessly, detaching himself from his love making Prompto crinkle his nose and groan in his sleep. Then, finally, the thrashing. Noctis flailed about before sitting upright, screaming. Grasping all over himself, as if trying to rip away invisible hands._

_Prompto immediately woke up, well used to these nightmares by now, and wrapped his arms comfortingly and tightly around Noctis so that he wouldn’t accidentally hurt himself, saying what he could to stop the night terrors and to let Noctis know that it was just a dream and that he was loved. Safe. Cherished…_

_Finally, Noctis awoke with a start in the middle of a particularly strong attempt at a thrash, stilling his sweaty body and breathing heavily. Prompto set his head on Noctis’ shoulder, delivering loving little kisses wherever he could and whispering comforting words into his lover’s ear. “…It was a bad one…” The blonde said, frowning sympathetically. Noctis had been having these nightmares almost every night for as long as he knew him… He wished he could make them go away… Feeling too hot, Noctis broke away from his lover’s protective hold to sit atop the blankets instead. He struggled to calm himself and catch his breath. “…You want to tell me about it?” Noctis was silent. Of course he was... For some reason, he never wanted to tell Prompto what his night terrors consisted of. “…Maybe it’s time to see a doctor? …I’ve been reading about night terrors lately...”, he tried, softly._

_Noctis shook his head with a frustrating rise and fall of his shoulders. “Fuck, Prompto, it’s just a dream! Everyone has them.”_

_Prompto frowned. “…Not like you do…” Silence. Noctis wasn’t looking at him. “…You’ve been talking more in your sleep, lately…”_

_“…What am I saying?”_

_“…Mostly, you just apologize...” Noctis made a quiet, noncommittal hum of acknowledgement. It was time for help. It was time for his boyfriend to admit he needed help. There was a very nice therapist at his college. He was sure the man wouldn’t mind if he brought the black-haired man in for some counseling. He could always claim his lover was another student who just didn’t want to be there alone… “…Noctis, I think-“_

_Suddenly, Noctis perked, interrupting his boyfriend’s sentence, eyes going wide. He looked to Prompto, almost frantically. “Please- tell me you don’t smell anything?”_

_Confused, Prompto furrowed his brows and took a moment to focus, sniffing the air. At first, there was nothing. But then, for some reason, a bad smell finally hit him and he struggled not to crinkle his nose at it. “Huh. Weird…”_

_Noctis only tensed further, turning more to face Prompto properly, hands flying to hold the blonde’s shoulders tightly. “What?”_

_“I think I smell… sulfur?”_

_Noctis backed away, suddenly. Eyes even wider, he stared into Prompto’s blue ones. “Shit!”_

_Prompto wanted to ask, but he couldn’t. From the nothing, a winged arm came, grasping his lover by the roots of his black hair and pulling him, hard, out of the bed and onto the cold floor._

_It all happened so fast._

_Prompto watched Noctis hit the floor hard, then his eyes travelled further up that winged arm to see the raven. We wanted to jump out of bed and help Noctis. He also wanted to piss himself. He wanted to scream. But he could do absolutely nothing as suddenly the raven raised its clawed hand. At once, Prompto felt like he was being choked. He squirmed and struggled, coughed and wordlessly pleaded. And when he was almost blacking out- almost dying- the raven let go, throwing and forcing Prompto to lay back onto the bed._

_Noctis stood, the back of his head bleeding from his impact with the floor, but he ignored it. Angrily, he glared at the daemon. His eyes weren’t his own anymore. They were a deep red. From his hands at his sides, long, sharp nails were prevalent._

_Prompto could hardly believe how badly he was hallucinating due to the lack of oxygen to his brain during the choke. He watched through off-and-on blackness as his lover fearlessly approached the grotesque-looking being in the room with them before, finally, his vision blacked out entirely and he passed out._

_The raven clicked its tongue in disgust, shaking its head. “This guy?” Noctis said nothing. Merely growled, showing off sharp fangs. “Nice costume.”, the raven added, sarcastically._

_“Go back.”, Noctis barked._

_“Oh, I plan on it…” Corvus hissed, challengingly._

_Noctis flexed his hands. Rolled his shoulders. Prepared for a fight. “I’m stronger than you are...”_

_“Brother, you’re a long time out of practice…”, Corvus taunted._

_They fought._

_A clash of claws and feathers, teeth and magic. The two beings went at each other viciously and without relenting, crashing into dressers and waking neighbors. Blood splattered from wounds, covering the hardwood floor and terrible wallpaper in a deep, obscene red._

_With all the commotion- the hissing and the growling, the cries of pain and anger- Prompto roused. Blinking away the blurriness, his blues eyes laid on Noctis, mostly blocked by the looming form of the gigantic, black bird. It was choking Noctis._

_He leapt up out of bed without a second thought or care towards his earlier fear for the creature, wanting to help Noctis. To throw the bird’s hands off him and beat him to a bloody pulp. But before he could get too far, the Raven raised a clawed hand and slashed at his chest, sending him flying back on the bed, back on his back._

_Noctis’ daemonic eyes widened and in a renewed effort to get loose, he raised his claws up and ripped Corvus’ golden, beady eyes from its sockets. The raven screamed out in pain. He let the other being go, and Noctis immediately rushed to Prompto’s side, leaning over him on the bed.  “Prompto!”_

_No longer were his eyes red and evil. No longer were there claws from his fingertips. He touched Prompto’s face carefully and gently, ignoring his own injuries to instead fret over his lover’s eying the deep, bloody gashes with eyes full of fear. Prompto writhed in the pain, almost delirious. He was looking up at his lover, but it was as if he couldn’t even see him, lost to his own world of pain. His cuts bubbled forth blood, soaking the bedsheets around him. From behind them Corvus finally stood up with a wild, angry roar. But Noctis doesn’t care. He kept staring into his lover’s pained, teary face, hand combing through sweat-soaked, matted hair and a freckled cheekbone. “…H-he’s… He’s dying…”_

_“Well I should hope so. I don’t scratch.”, the raven answered. Its voice was haggard in its pain yet smug, satisfied that it had gotten to its foe in some way or another._

_Noctis turned to look at him then, staring heavily at empty sockets. “Let me help him, and I’ll go with you.”_

_The daemon ‘stared’ at him for a few long, tense moments. Then, it took a few steps back, giving Noctis space with a small nod of its head as a wordless approval._

_The black-haired man leaned further over Prompto, their foreheads touching. Prompto’s eyes struggled to focus on him but when he finally could, his boyfriend’s eyes were watery and sad. It crushed Prompto’s soul._

_“N-N-Noc…tis…!”, he cried, quietly. His breaths were shallow. Quick. Noctis could see Prompto’s fear of death and his love for him and it hurt the creature, deeply…_

_He caused this to happen to Prompto…_

_Sadly, eyes glistening with steadily-spilling tears, Noctis kissed Prompto’s lips. Feather-light. Cherishing. And the other’s struggled to move back. They were already going cold…_

_His tears fell onto his boyfriend’s cheeks before they rolled down into his hair line._

_It was their final touch._

_When he raised his head, staring into Prompto’s half-lidded eyes, he uttered, “…I have to leave…”_

_Prompto couldn’t respond. He wanted to, but the pain was just too much. The blood was just too far gone. He stared up at his love, confused and scared. Noctis was leaving…? No, he didn’t want Noctis to leave! There was so much they still hadn’t done yet!_

_Noctis raised a hand over Prompto’s gashed chest and, like magic that the blonde was too out of to pay any sort of attention to, the wounds closed. Prompto cried out in pain a final time before going limp on the bed, chest heaving with his heavy, wounded breaths. Slowly, his blue eyes closed, and he fell into another sleep._

_“…Sorry…”, the black-haired man apologized, face scrunched up in sorrow at having to leave his love like this. He wiped the endless tears from his face as he crawled off the bed and stood before the raven._

_Corvus didn’t care for his pain, nor any of his other emotions. Merely asked, “…The book?”_

_Noctis growled before moving to retrieve his briefcase from its spot beside the bed._

_Prompto’s eyes began to flutter open again as Noctis walked back. Weakly, he extended a pale, blood-smeared hand, attempting to grasp at his love. But he was much, much too far away…_

_“N-Noctis…?” He watched dazedly as Noctis’ tearful eyes met his with a watery, regretful sniffle. “Noctis…!” Still so weak, Prompto couldn’t move from his spot. He could only watch and cry, quietly and desperately, as the raven pulled Noctis by his wrist into nothing, both of them disappearing. He was left alone... “…Noctis! …Noctis!!”_

_The silence of the destroyed space around him was deafening in his ears as another wave of sleepiness overwhelmed him, dragging him under once more…_

**…**

Prompto couldn’t help but to cry, re-watching the scene. He didn’t even turn around when he heard, **“…You came here for love. You’re no better than Faust.”**

Sniffling, he replied, “…Faust sought power and knowledge.” He sounded weak. He could feel his organs shutting down on him.

 **“Which is all _you_ seek! Love would have had you destroy that book as you had _promised_!”** Dolo roared. **“A daemon cannot harm it! Only a mortal can! You _betrayed_ your love!”**

Prompto furrowed his brows. His heart thudded, but somehow, he felt as though it had nothing to do with the poison coursing through his veins. He turned, staring the daemon it its eyes. It’s deep, red eyes. “…That’s the difference between you and me… Humanity is allowed to make mistakes. It’s _expected_ of us…”

**“Well that’s just _stupid_.”**

Angry, Prompto furrowed his brows with a grimace. Even still, after witnessing what Noctis had done for him, Dolo still thought of their love as stupid and wrong. A chemical, fucked-up imbalance in Noctis’ head. “…What do you know of how we feel except what you get out of us through torture? …You daemons claim to be all-powerful, yet you’re beaten by your own jealousy towards _us._ ”

The daemon laughed, long and loud.

Then, there were _more_ laughs…

The waiter. The raven. The man and woman who had made a deal with Noctis’ daemon form.

The voices were loud, piercing Prompto’s skull and making him wince. He covered his ears, trying to block them out, but it was impossible. It was as if the laughter was coming from within his own brain- his own _skull_. He screwed his eyes shut, _screaming_. He screamed and screamed, until his own screams blocked out the multiplied laughter.

He opened his eyes, glaring down at Dolo.

That was _it_. He was _done_. He had had enough of the mind games, once and for all. He had came here to retrieve Noctis, and that’s what he was going to do.

Prompto sat up, ignoring every way the poisoned flesh within him protested. He glared as hard as he could, staring Dolo right into his bloodied eyes **. “Daemon! Foul, horrible, _disgusting_ daemon!! _I_ am your master! You are my _dog_!! When I summoned you, I summoned a great _power_! When I say roll over, that is _exactly_ what you will do!!”** He had to stop for a moment, breathing heavily. He could feel blood drip from his node and past his lips, but he ignored it. **“I have seen you toss yourself around this room in a _dozen_ different forms! Planting seeds in my head and laughing as you watched them grow! But I say _no_ _more_!! I’m _done_ with the games and the trickery!! I _will_ not go away, no matter _how_ many times you poison me!! I _summoned_ you! Now- I _command_ you, daemon Dolo, to _scour_ the depths of Hell… _find_ my boy… set him _right_ _down_ in front of me… and _FUCK_ _OFF_!”**

Dolo had no words. It just stared up at Prompto in a state of disbelief. Then, growling angrily, it turned away, crawling off into the darkness.

Prompto’s hands were balled into fists so tightly that his nails bit his skin and pained his cut. Exhausted, _dying_ , he deflated. He slid the book lying in front of him aside to look at the picture of Noctis that he had brought. He leaned over, barely having the strength to sit upright anymore. He could barely see _anything_ , and it wasn’t just because the candles were now burning so low. They would surely flicker out to nothing any minute now…

He closed his eyes.

Maybe… just _maybe_ … he’d take a small nap… and when he awoke… he’d see Noctis…

“…Prompto? …Baby?”

Noctis’ voice. Quiet and unsure, quivering with worry.

_‘Could it really be-?!’_

Prompto raised his head slowly, cracking his eyes open. In the dim light of the candles, Noctis’ face appeared, just outside of his circle. At once, it was like the poison wasn’t hurting him like it was before. Seeing Noctis- the _real_ Noctis- right in front of him, only a few feet away, filled him with a lingering strength he didn’t know he possessed. Color flooded back. Everything got brighter. Noctis was there, smiling at him. Prompto smiled back.

“Hi…”, his lover greeted. Prompto was so, _so_ happy. He felt like he could _cry_.

Noctis smiled as well, unable to hide it after seeing Prompto again after so long. He licked his lips. “…Strange place to be picking up guys…”, he joked, laughing quietly. Prompto couldn’t say anything in that moment. Noctis was _here_. He was _finally_ _here_! After everything he had _gone_ _through_ … And he was joking, as if nothing had ever happened. As if they were never separated by the cold, unyielding hands of a cruel fate. It was so _weird_ and so like _Noctis_. Of _course_ his love would respond like this upon their reuniting… The blonde choked up, tears finally falling. Yet Noctis didn’t wipe them away. He merely glanced down at the familiar item between them and said, “…You kept my book.”

Prompto nodded. “…Y-yeah, I… I tried to burn it… I actually… I don’t know why I _couldn’t_ …”

Noctis shook his head, offering a watery little smile. “…It’s okay…” He laughed. “…They were pissed when they found Faust in the case instead…”

Prompto’s face fell to one of seriousness, then. He didn’t want Noctis here anymore to be harmed as the other daemons saw fit. To be locked away under heavy observation. He wanted him _back_. “…I’m here to take you with me.”

Noctis smiled, sadly. “…I know… I’m _giddy_ , can’t you tell…?”

Damned his love’s strange, badly-timed sense of humor.

He coughed. “I-I-I need you to… tell me the chant I need to use to… take you back…”

Noctis frowned. “…You still want to _save_ me? …After all you’ve _heard_?”

Prompto shook his head. “I don’t believe that… I know your true heart… I know it’s not capable of that…”

His lover looked up at him, face hard and serious. “…But it _is.”_

The blonde frowned, seeing that it really _was_ the truth. Still, he tried to scrounge up a smile. “T-Then just… tell me you won’t eat me… and I’ll make you my husband.”

A tear fell down Noctis’ cheek. “…You _love_ me?” Prompto couldn’t answer as he began coughing again, and Noctis’ eyes widened. He scooted s close to the circle as he could and leaned forward, looking down on the book that he knew all too well. “Quick- Page 1,108!” Prompto did so with shaking, slow, unsteady hands as his lover watched him. When he finally got there, he stared into Noctis’ eyes and repeated after him.

**_“Aperta...”_ **

_“Aperta...”_

**_“Frange pariterque capillos vincula vestra...”_ **

_“Frange pariterque capillos vincula vestra...”_

**_“Fiat eos…”_ **

_“Fiat eos…”_

Slowly, Noctis slid his hand into Prompto’s protective circle.

Then the other.

He pulled himself closer. Close enough to close the distance between them, pressing his lips to Prompto’s firmly and urgently. Prompto pulled his boyfriend closer, hands carding through soft, black locks and caressing high, pale cheekbones. Their tongue clashed and moved in a  deep, loving dance that took Prompto’s breath away by the end of it.

But that wasn’t _all_ it took…

When at last Noctis pulled back, allowing his blonde to breathe, he grabbed the crystal glass from within the circle, spitting the bright, blue poison back into it.

Prompto’s eyes widened and his chest drummed vibrantly to life in his chest as their foreheads pressed together.

Noctis closed his eyes and took a deep, shaking breath. “…I can’t go with you.”

Prompto looked away, grimacing. He swallowed back the lump in his throat that threatened to release the waterworks. “…Of course you can’t…”, he whispered, and he couldn’t keep the tears from falling any longer. Desperately, he cried, body shaking against Noctis’. “ _W-We’ll hide. They won’t find us!”_ , he urged. He’d make it work. _They’d_ make it work. They could _do_ it, he _knew_ they could…!

Noctis shook his head. His regret was almost palpable, and his body trembled in sadness along with his lover’s. “…No, they _will_ … And next time… they’ll _kill_ you...” He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if that happened... He _wouldn’t_ let it happen.

“…Then let me stay here.”, Prompto decided. It was his only other _option_. He didn’t _care_. He’d endure the pain, so long as it meant they wouldn’t have to separate again.

Noctis closed his eyes, shaking his head adamantly, pressing more firmly against Prompto’s. “No... _No…!_ This is _not_ where I will let you spend eternity… You have no choice at _all_ in this matter.”

And Prompto _felt_ it… With a dreadful, maddening finality, he _knew_ …

He wouldn’t be leaving here with Noctis…

Prompto sobbed. “…I have nothing worth my life without you there…”, he argued. He didn’t want to go back to his stuffy, drafty, overly-noisy apartment. Not _alone_ … It would forever be too big, too empty, too _quiet_ … It would never be the same without Noctis. He’d never be happy there, without Noctis…

The black-haired man pulled away, looking his boyfriend in his bright, blue, _beautiful_ eyes. When he spoke, it was with multiple voices. Like all the other daemons he had spoken to over the last few hours. His next sentiment rang truer than anything else could have as he poke his next words. **“…I’m not a _boy_ , Prompto. I’m not _human_ …”**

“B-but you… _love_ me.” And he _did_ , didn’t he? Prompto loved him so, _so_ much… He wanted nothing more than to _cherish_ this man. To give him all the love and attention in the _world_. To declare his feelings and scream them to the world as wedding bells rang in the distance… Oh, how lovely Noctis would be, dressed to the nines in all white… Well, most likely _black_ … Still, Prompto was _more_ than sure he would have been beautiful.

Noctis looked down, taking in a long, deep breath, struggling to calm his overflowing emptions. “…Keep your word to me…” He looked up. Kissed Prompto. Then, sadly, he backed out of the circle, back towards the darkness. “…You’re going home.”

Prompto watched him turn, tears falling.

He could feel his essence leaving this realm. Could feel his presence separating from this reality. Noctis had _done_ something. He was _sending_ _him_ _home_.

“No! Noctis, no! Please!!”, the blonde cried out, struggling against the powers pulling him away. He outstretched his arm. Attempted to grab his love one last, final time. To feel that loving, familiar warmth beneath his fingertips… _“…NOCTIS!!_ ”

But it was no use. He couldn’t move. All he could do was watch, helplessly, while his boyfriend crawled away from him. He didn’t _want_ to go! He didn’t _want_ Noctis to leave again! He wanted to _stay_!

Wait…

…Crawled?

A dawning, heavy realization washed over him as, right before his eyes, Noctis turned to look at him one last, lingering time.

But then, he wasn’t Noctis at all.

Instead of deep blues, bloody reds gazed up at him with sadness and regret. Instead of pale, perfect skin, a blueish, horned and clawed, mangled mess. Rows upon rows od deadly, sharp teeth.

Not laughing.

Not grinning.

Not growling.

Not roaring.

Just… _staring_.

And without another word, he crawled away…

 

**…**

Prompto removed the boards along his windows, letting in the sunlight that seemed altogether far too bright and much, _much_ too dull. Wordlessly, he stared down at the city below.

What would he do now…? What awaited him…?

Well… there _was_ one thing he still had to do…

Wordlessly, with a body that felt far more tired than when he started this journey, he passed back towards the painted, bloodied, white circle scrawled upon his living room floor.

He kneeled, staring down at the book.

His heart ached.

His soul mourned.

But only one last, lingering reminiscence of his lost love, he pulled the lighter from deep within his pocket.

And he put it to the crinkled, bloodied pages.

In a silent, deafening, _crushing_ finality, it burned.

Burned until the smoke rose to the ceiling, setting off the sprinkler and alarm system.

And despite the water that raced to recover it, it burned some more.

Until there was nothing left upon the floor but ash and smoke and the firemen were knocking heavily on his door.

And then, nothing.

That was the end.

 _Their_ end _…_

Noctis’ end…

 

**…**

**_Amor non est scintilla. Est inferus aemulatio lampades Inferno, perussi quod omnes tangit. Interdum solus via est ut iustus ... extinguere: adolebitque illud._ **

**Author's Note:**

> The words in this fic are Latin translation of real English, so if you'd care to figure out what they said, you can translate if you'd like!  
> But the ending quote is by my own design.  
> Dolo in Latin was "Deceit", which I thought was the perfect name for Noctis' daemon form.  
> Corvus is also "Raven". I know... I'm so creative... LOL I imagined that one as a horrifying version of our good friend Kenny Crow! >;D  
> Thank you very much for reading!  
> Comments are appreciated <3  
> I'd love to hear what you thought and whether or not this work has convinced you to go and check out the actual movie! :)  
> Til next time, happy reading! ;)


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